Quotes About Angry

Because poets are by nature like us, those who are dominated by some passion seem most convincing; The outraged roar and angry are angry most truthfully.

Music has charms to soothe a savage breaste is what the playwright William Congreve actually wrote. But it's part of our mythology: a wild or angry animal calmed or tamed by music. Which makes sense, given all we know about how music can affect the spirits of a human being.

I destroyed that doll, hoping the sacrifice would somehow reverse time and bring my father back. I was a mad scientist and an angry child.

The German language is so sonorous, isn't it? Beautiful language...the language of poetry. Angry, angry poetry.

Instead, there has emerged a new jihadi organization, dispersed and decentralized, which draws its inspiration from al-Qa'ida and its glorious raids. This rising threat, truly a global jihad in the making, is potentially deadlier than bin Laden's secret army; it exists wherever there are angry Muslims, and it feeds on the "virtual jihad," what some term

Its women are lovely and stubborn, its men angry and ingenious. Is there a land anywhere like southern Illinois?

Putting an elbow on the drafting table and her chin in her palm, she simply looked at him. She wasn't angry. To the contrary. She had her lips pressed together; she was clearly trying not to smile—and he loved this about her, this good nature. Of course, that didn't solve his current problem. "You think this is funny?" he asked. "Actually," the corner of her mouth

it is somehow typical of Spain—of the flashes of magnanimity that you get from Spaniards in the worst of circumstances. I have the most evil memories of Spain, but I have very few bad memories of Spaniards. I only twice remember even being seriously angry with a Spaniard, and on each occasion, when I look back, I believe I was in the wrong myself. They have, there is no doubt, a generosity, a species of nobility, that do not really belong to the twentieth century.

If there is a God who made us and we did wrong before His eyes—as George says—at least we did wrong only because we were as God made us, and I do not think that He should set traps. Oh, you should know better than George! Let us not bring all that back into the world again—the angry God, the mean God—the one who does not tell us the rules of the game, and then strikes us when we break them. Let us not bring Him back.

Down in the city are the nice houses and the so-so houses and the lovers making out in dark yards and the babies crying for their moms, and I wonder if, other than Jesus, has this ever happened before. Maybe it happens all the time. Maybe there's angry dead all over, hiding in rooms, covered with blankets, bossing around their scared, embarrassed relatives. Because how would we know?

I used to write out of angst. My writing was quite miserable, quite angry, even when it was funny. It was based on this sadness and tired emotional disdain for the world.

You should use your puppy's name only when you're happy, not angry.

The Tragallion pack wasn't exactly welcoming them with open arms ... All in all they were an angry, weary-looking group. Jace tucked Miri a little closer in to his side. "Remind me to deck Ian next time I set eyes on him." She glanced up. "If you hold him, I'll do it for you.

I'm fit and I'm angry, and I'm obviously crazy. Anything could happen.

The British are like that, especially the middle class Radio 4 audience: a young snappy, angry person annoys them, and they shout at the radio for him to show some respect and get the spiritual and intellectual equivalent of a haircut. But let the same sentiments exactly, word for word, be uttered in high academic tones, as if by a compound of G. E. Moore, Bertrand Russell and Anthony Quinton, and they will roll onto their tummies and purr.

The bow of God's wrath is bent, and the arrow made ready on the string, and justice bends the arrow at your heart, and strains the bow, and it is nothing but the mere pleasure of God, and that of an angry God, without any promise or obligation at all, that keeps the arrow one moment from being made drunk with your blood.

Sinners in the hands of an angry God.

When I asked my shrink if I was a control freak, he finished saying "Absolutely" before I finished saying "freak." I told him that I once worked with a woman who carried a remote control in her purse. Whenever she got worried or angry, she took it out and stroked it like a gerbil. My shrink said that if I keep comparing myself to severe neurotics, I'll think that anything is permissible.

Are you two still on hunting duty?" asked Graypaw innocently. "Never mind. We've been patrolling our territory borders. You'll be glad to know all is safe." "I'm sure the other Clans were terrified when they smelled you two coming!" yowled Dustpaw. "They didn't even dare show their faces," retorted Graypaw, unable to hide his anger.

Tempers were as short as the days. "Hungry bellies make angry hearts," as Birdsong liked to say. Tanglewhisker

Graystripe shrugged. "Dunno. We've seen nothing of ShadowClan since the floods started. Who knows what they're up to?" "We'll even give you an escort," Nightstar went on, narrowing his eyes. "Just to make sure you get to Fourtrees safely. We wouldn't want ThunderClan to be scared off by an angry mouse, would we?

Nancy Pelosi says the angry opposition to health care reform is like the angry opposition to gay rights that led to Harvey Milk being shot.

It was kind of her to say, but he did do harm. I doubt my sister will ever marry: If she's sad or upset or angry, she needs to be alone – she fears a man dismissing her womanly tears.

He'd come back from a night out drinking, and I'd ask him how the bar was, whatever bar, and he'd so often say: Totally inundated by Lost Causes, his code for women my age. At the time, a girl barely in her thirties, I'd smirked along with him as if that would never happen to me. Now I am his Lost Cause, and he's trapped with me, and maybe that's why he's so angry.