Quotes About Bitterness

Bad temper is its own scourge. Few things are more bitter than to feel bitter. A man's venom poisons himself more than his victim.

When a man but half forgives his enemy, it is like leaving a bag of rusty nails to interpose between them.

The American dream was not supposed to look like this, and when men went off the war, too often other men came in the night to the bedroom at the back of the long, narrow trailers. In fact, I had lived there and had gone off to war, and someone took of my place in the bed and took of my young wife. But that was few wars ago, and so much has happened since , that the only lingering bitterness left is that the bastard also took my dog.

You know, the cynicism that is in the politics, it is not for my soul. It makes me - out of me, an extremely bitter, cynical person that I hate to see in the mirror, really.

I believe very deeply in my soul that God paired me and my father purposely and that he knew that my father would give me the strength to be a person with disability that was proud, always held her head high, and was never, ever bitter.

How does a daughter know that she feels appropriately towards the woman who is her mother? Yes, it was difficult to know what to do with Mai, how to conceive her. I thought I hated her fawning, but what I see I hated is the degree of it. If she was fawning, she was not fawning enough. She diluted it with her spitefulness, the hopeless clawing of a small cornered spirit towards what was beyond it. And if she had spirit, it was not great enough, being shrunk by the bitterness of her temper.

Ma sentì che fortificare la sua intelligenza significava fortificare il suo odio.

Ogni bocca di saggio che si complimenta con un altro è come un vaso di fiele mielato.

Bitterness would do you good. All that smiling and pretending of yours would give me hives.

In the years that she had been tying scraps to the branches, the tree had died and the fruit had turned bitter. The other apple trees were hale and healthy, but this one, the tree of her remembrances, was as black and twisted as the bombed-out town behind it.

There was a poison in him...and I drank it up.

Ha! Bitterness would do you good. All that smiling and pretending of yours would give me hives.

vengeance would only taste sweet for a second, and then it would be a permanent stain on her soul.

Love has this in common with scruples, that it becomes embittered by the reflections and the thoughts that beset us to free ourselves.

Then again she wept aloud,– so bitterly that the voice of her crying pierced into the marrow of the listener's bones; – and she sobbed out the words of this poem:– Hi kurureba Sasoeshi mono wo – Akanuma no Makomo no kure no Hitori-ne zo uki! ("At the coming of twilight I invited him to return with me –! Now to sleep alone in the shadow of the rushes of Akanuma – ah! what misery unspeakable!")

No. I love my grudges. I tend to them like little pets. Madeline

What is to be done? We who are still half alive, living in the often fibrillating heartland of a senescent capitalism -- can we do more than reflect the decay around and within us? Can we do more than sing our sad and bitter songs of disillusion and defeat?

Was there any fate more bitter than to get what you long for most, when it's too late?

Bitter, bitter, this desolation of angels.

The function of hate, as Sarai saw it, was to stamp out compassion--to close a door to one's own self and forget it was ever there.

I'm not a dream," said Sarai. There was bitterness in her voice. "I'm a nightmare.

The function of hate […] was to stomp out compassion - to close a door in one's own self and forgot it was ever there.

Have an enemy, be an enemy. Hate those who hate you. Hate them better. Hate them worse . Be the monster they fear the most. And whenever you can, and however you can, make them suffer .

He was reeling. Here was the impossible, and it was beautiful, and it was terrible, and it flayed open his chest to show that his heart, numb for so long, was still vital and beating… just so it could be ripped out again, after all these years? Was there any fate more bitter than to get what you long for most, when it's too late?