Best 2450 quotes in «anger quotes» category

God damn, do I have to be y'all's babysitter?

God picked me to be his punching bag...so who am I suposed to pray to for mercy?

God's anger is the toil and suffering of man. Man's anger is the love and worship of his enemy.

God thundered again and again through the prophets that worship in the context of mistreatment of the poor and disadvantaged is an outrage.

God, you had enough time to have been through it three times. You've been through my stuff. I bet you over and let one of you stick the world's longest finger up my ass. If a prostate check is an exam, that was a motherfucking safari. I was scared to look down. I thought I'd see that guy's finger nail sticking out of my cock.

Good! he wanted to cry out to her. Good! Because you only had to see it! I had to wear it!

Good sales copy creates good sales.

Good times don’t last and bad times don’t stay forever.

Grief and anger shrink my world, and I resent this. They seem to paralyze my memory of happier times, of friends, places, things; options. Squeezed by the grip of intense, unsettling emotion, I grow smaller in my single-mindedness. I suppose it is partly because I have discarded a range of choices, impairing in some measure my freedom of will. I don't like this, but after a point I have small control over it. It makes me feel that I have surrendered to a kind of determinism, which irritates me even more. Then, vicious cycle, this feeds back into the emotion that drives me and intensifies it. The simple way of ending this situation is the headlong rush to remove its object. The difficult way is more philosophical, a drawing back, the reestablishment of control. As usual, the difficult way is preferable. A headlong rush may also result in a broken neck.

Grief You plunge one in many emotions Betrayal, Despair, Depression, Fear, Anger Grief You are more difficult to face than Death Grief Please let my faith stay stronger than you Grief I so wish you eventually lose out to love (Page 58)

Grief, regret, pain, and of course anger. Another loss. And when you compare this one loss to the hundreds and maybe thousands that occur people stop thinking they matter. It does matter though. Every loss matters.

Grief works its way on people differently. Some sulk, or become morose, or weep and scream a vengeance at the gods.

Grief is not necessarily any prettier than death, and the grief-stricken do not wander like lambs grateful for the shepherd's guidance. They can be more like wounded wolves, snapping at those who would help them.

Growing older doesn't mean that you are more mature than everyone who is younger than you. Maturity is a lot of things, and age has nothing to do with it.

Growth-oriented performance demands sustained entrepreneurial efforts.

Guard your heart against anger, bitterness, envy, jealousy….!

Guard your heart against anger.

Hannah felt a hot pulse of anger. So this was how he saw her: as a mere instrument of his punishment, a flail or cudgel lacking any volition of her own?

Harbour no hatred in your heart against anyone. People who do this have placed their influence on the risky line.

Hatred and anger are not the opposites of love, Tess. They are backsides of the same playing cards. It is easier to flip hostile feelings over and find the love and forgiveness that have been hidden there all along, aching to be found, than it is to produce new feelings.

Harboring anger, hatred and resentment within you, is containing the venom within you. You are the only one affected...

Harvey, Harvey, Harvey, I always wanted to be a hero in my life but i knew people won't let me to be a hero they only let you to be a villain, you know a villain, with a knife because these cheap maggots always want you to hurt them, hurt them badly." the joker said angrily.

Hatred was easy. The permutations constant over the years: A stranger at a fair who palmed my crotch through my shorts. A man on the sidewalk who lunged at me, then laughed when I flinched. The night an older man took me to a fancy restaurant when I wasn't even old enough to like oysters. Not yet twenty. The owner joined our table, and so did a famous filmmaker. The men fell into a heated discussion with no entry point for me: I fidgeted with my heavy cloth napkin, drank water. Staring at the wall. "Eat your vegetables," the filmmaker suddenly snapped at me. "You're a growing girl." The filmmaker wanted me to know what I already knew: I had no power. He saw my need and used it against me.

Hate is a conscious emotion, but we rarely express it openly. Identifying hate in oneself is probably even more difficult than identifying love. Hate must not be confused with anger. It is very different. Hate has no reasons. Often, it just sits deep in our body, rarely expending itself in a way that we can identify. Hate must be dispensed with periodically, when the object of hate is no longer there, hate cannot thrive, and the mind becomes hollow and without purpose.

Hatred and anger are the greatest poison to the happiness of a good mind. There is, in the very feeling of those passions, something harsh, jarring, and convulsive, something that tears and distracts the breast, and is altogether destructive of that composure and tranquillity of mind which is so necessary to happiness, and which is best promoted by the contrary passions of gratitude and love.

Hatred destroys you before it destroys the ones you hate.

Hasira ni Shetani. Hekima ni Mungu. Kila kitu kimo ndani yetu. Hasira imo ndani yetu. Hekima imo ndani yetu. Atomu ni matofali ya ujenzi wa kila kitu ulimwenguni likiwemo jua na miili ya wanadamu. Ndani ya atomu kuna nguvu ya chanya na kuna nguvu ya hasi. Kama miili yetu imetengenezwa na atomu na katika kila atomu kuna nguvu ya chanya na kuna nguvu ya hasi, hivyo basi, tuna uwezo mkubwa wa kufanya mambo mazuri na tuna uwezo mkubwa wa kufanya mambo mabaya. Mtu akikutukana mwambie asante. Akikupiga mwambie asante. Akiendelea kukupiga, pigana. Geuza hasira yako kuwa hekima kwa faida yako na kwa faida ya wengine.

Hate is hostility.

Hate destroys, love builds: be a creator. Fear closes, love opens: be an advocate for life. Guilt stagnates, love permits: be a peaceful warrior. Anger takes away, love gives: be a foundation for life. A defeatist attitude makes its own bed while love has the power to design its very own house.

Hatred does not help us alleviate our pain even in the slightest.

Hate is both cruel and deceiving, when you become it you feel as though you are winning, but you will be sorely mistaken.

Hate may have its hour, but love will have its day.

Have and show motivation to do and learn. That's the key for a good career. Everything else is an extrapolation of that.

Have we become so defensive that we cannot even tolerate a kind act?

Have you ever realised that if a person can make you angry, that person actually controls you.

Have you ever requested an angry person to get into rage?

Heated argument: when you try to convince someone of what you don't believe yourself.

Healthy people know not to gorge on anger. At the end of the day, they walk away. They choose to end it. And it’s an easier choice the next time.

He beat you." And as I spoke the words I felt a terrible anger come together inside me. It wasn't hot and furious, as some of my flashes of temper tend to be. This was different, slow and cold.

He continued to see inevitable events from the past as avoidable, long after they'd taken their course.

He could see I meant what I said, and was temporarily defeated. He walked past me and into the corridor; his eyes were angry and malevolent. I was horrified because I realized that he really believed I would have become his mistress that night.

He could feel the belligerence growing in Freddie Miles as surely as if his huge body were generating a heat that he could feel across the room.

He curled his claw into a fist. "I'd like to shove a stake up that bastard's ass." Adam's lip curled. "Remind me not to piss you off." The demon raised his brow. "Trust that shit, mancy.

He’d spent his life carefully not looking into an abyss of rage like the pit of hellfire he’d so often been told awaited pagans, because if he ever really looked, he feared he might be angry forever.

He had suddenly felt that wealth, and power, and life - all that people arrange and preserve with such care - all this, if it is worth anything, is only so because of the pleasure with which one can abandon it all. It was that feeling on account of which a volunteer recruit drinks up his last kopeck, a man on a drunken binge smashes mirrors and windows without any apparent reason and knowing it will cost him his last penny; that feeling on account of which a man does (in the banal sense) insane things, as if testing his personal power and strength, claiming the presence of a higher judgement over life, which stands outside human conventions.

Helping others is an effective way of training oneself.

Her anger said, as anger is apt to say, that God was with her— that all heaven, though it were crowded with spirits watching them, must be on her side.

Her anger was rekindled. 'You see, I keep it to myself, but, oh! it's more than I can stand. Don't say anything, sir; don't say anything , or I'll explode!' He said nothing, and she exploded all the same.

Here’s the thing, people: We have some serious problems. The lights are off. And it seems like that’s affecting the water flow in part of town. So, no baths or showers, okay? But the situation is that we think Caine is short of food, which means he’s not going to be able to hold out very long at the power plant.” “How long?” someone yelled. Sam shook his head. “I don’t know.” “Why can’t you get him to leave?” “Because I can’t, that’s why,” Sam snapped, letting some of his anger show. “Because I’m not Superman, all right? Look, he’s inside the plant. The walls are thick. He has guns, he has Jack, he has Drake, and he has his own powers. I can’t get him out of there without getting some of our people killed. Anybody want to volunteer for that?" Silence. “Yeah, I thought so. I can’t get you people to show up and pick melons, let alone throw down with Drake.” “That’s your job,” Zil said. “Oh, I see,” Sam said. The resentment he’d held in now came boiling to the surface. “It’s my job to pick the fruit, and collect the trash, and ration the food, and catch Hunter, and stop Caine, and settle every stupid little fight, and make sure kids get a visit from the Tooth Fairy. What’s your job, Zil? Oh, right: you spray hateful graffiti. Thanks for taking care of that, I don’t know how we’d ever manage without you.” “Sam…,” Astrid said, just loud enough for him to hear. A warning. Too late. He was going to say what needed saying. “And the rest of you. How many of you have done a single, lousy thing in the last two weeks aside from sitting around playing Xbox or watching movies? “Let me explain something to you people. I’m not your parents. I’m a fifteen-year-old kid. I’m a kid, just like all of you. I don’t happen to have any magic ability to make food suddenly appear. I can’t just snap my fingers and make all your problems go away. I’m just a kid.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sam knew he had crossed the line. He had said the fateful words so many had used as an excuse before him. How many hundreds of times had he heard, “I’m just a kid.” But now he seemed unable to stop the words from tumbling out. “Look, I have an eighth-grade education. Just because I have powers doesn’t mean I’m Dumbledore or George Washington or Martin Luther King. Until all this happened I was just a B student. All I wanted to do was surf. I wanted to grow up to be Dru Adler or Kelly Slater, just, you know, a really good surfer.” The crowd was dead quiet now. Of course they were quiet, some still-functioning part of his mind thought bitterly, it’s entertaining watching someone melt down in public. “I’m doing the best I can,” Sam said. “I lost people today…I…I screwed up. I should have figured out Caine might go after the power plant.” Silence. “I’m doing the best I can.” No one said a word. Sam refused to meet Astrid’s eyes. If he saw pity there, he would fall apart completely. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.

Her little chin lifted and I could see the fierceness in her eyes that told me she was angry. Her pupils dilated and her skin flushed. I wondered if she would look just as beautiful when she was in the throws of passion.