Best 2450 quotes in «anger quotes» category

Be soft enough not to break; be kind enough to not get angry.

Better to find one thing to live for than a thousand things to be against.

Beware anger is contagious...Don't allow other's anger to become yours

Beyond the canopy of my embrace, you shall feel the blistering heat of the Desert.

Beware of those who don't fight back. Sooner or later, they will.

Biology textbooks tell you the opposite action of sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems. One produces cold, blue-white anger, the other flushed apoplexy. Roy's was the pink sort. He was a big blonde man, with Viking bristle to eyebrows and mustache.

Bitterness is venom that consumes its host.

Bitterness is anger gone sour, an attitude of deep discontent that poisons our souls and destroys our peace.

Both sadness and anger are the two sides of same coin. Sadness is supressed anger, while anger is expressed sadness. Both sadness and anger are state of unhappiness, which are often because lack of self-love.

Both the suicidal and non-suicidal are often angry with others. One way to discharge this anger is to fantasize about violent revenge. The insults of daily life often cause fantasies of revenge to flare up and quickly subside. The people with these fantasies usually do not act on them; they are not motives or goals. They are involuntary responses to perceived insult—ways of coping with rage. The suicidal, whether or not they attempt, suffer tremendous and persistent pain and anger. That this pain should find its way into their fantasies and dreams is no surprise. This ideation is not a motive for action; it is an alternative to action. Fantasizing about suicide is an effort to delay or avoid suicide, not the activity of formulating a motive, goal, or intention. Fantasies doubtlessly succeed in preventing many attempts.

Breathe a word of prayer, not anger.

Bridget’s tight fists began to shake as something from deep inside, born of utter anger and hatred, crept from the depths of her soul. She lunged at him, prepared to pound his handsome face to blood and bone, but the straps prevented her. Instead, she was quickly zapped with a heady pulse of electricity. As she howled in anguish, Doctor Spencer beamed with satanic amusement.

Bridget's anger evaporated and the sadness came back. The anger was easier. She owned and controlled it, whereas the sadness owned her.

Brother, if any man thinks ill of you, do not be angry with him. For you are worse than he thinks you to be. If he charges you falsely on some point, yet be satisfied, for if he knew you better he might change the accusation and you would be no gainer by the correction. If you have your moral portrait painted and it is ugly, be satisfied. For it only needs a few blacker touches and it would be still nearer the truth. “I will be base in my own sight.” This was well said. Perhaps if David had carried it out more fully and had been rendered watchful thereby, it might have saved him from his great fall. A sense of electing love will render you base in your own sight.

Brother—” “I thought we’d already decided we weren’t that, either.” Grabbing his shoulder, I stopped him before he could reach the door. “Look, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I did this to you.” He turned to look at me, his brow raised high. “You’re sorry. So, what . . . we go back to being cool again?” “I don’t know, man. But we can’t do this.” “And why can’t we? You couldn’t stand to let me have one normal day with her. Have I done anything to you since she and I broke up?” He paused, but I didn’t respond. “No. I haven’t. You dealt with it by being an ass, so let me deal with this my way. And my way doesn’t include acting like you didn’t steal my girl from me.” “I didn’t steal Harper!” He opened the door and took a step outside, his shaking hand gripping the outer knob. When he looked back at me, his eyes were flat and lifeless. “You stole my entire world.

Broken people are the most dangerous...because they just don't give a fuck

But a person can only keep reality - and anger - at bay for so long before the truth comes back again.

But anger is the world’s worst—and arguably most contagious—plague. It might look ugly on the outside, but it eats you from the inside out. If you catch it—and you will—you must accept it. It stems from the fear: understand that. You must fight it, you must heal, and you must let it go. Anger, when dealt with, is en ember that eventually dies out if you give it enough space and understanding.

But anger expressed and translated into action in the service of our vision and our future is a liberating and strengthening act of clarification, for it is in the painful process of this translation that we identify who are our allies with whom we have grave differences, and who are our genuine enemies.

But even then I knew how it was going to be, I could feel the coming silence in the long, poisonous pauses that expanded as the night progressed.

But, even when angry, she had a voice that would put finches in their place and lull them to silence.

But inevitably, when I can't harm the people who harmed me, I just end up harming the people who love me. So maybe retaliation or holding on to anger about the harm done to me doesn't actually combat evil. Maybe it feeds it. In the end, if we're not careful, we can actually absorb the worst of our enemy and on some level even become them.

But I haven’t forgotten my misplaced anger either, so I also have to remember to shut the fuck up and listen sometimes. Because if I’m this angry as a white, hetero, cis, thin, able-bodied woman (Polly Pocket: Privilege), I can only imagine how angry women at the intersections of other forms of oppression are. Which means I need to connect to a larger community and movement, to let my voice be one of many, to be a voice that sometimes just amplifies other people’s. Turns out this is great, though – because the only thing better than one angry woman is an army of them.

But it's more than a scratch it's a slap in the face and a knife in the back, it's a punch in the stomach because you'd rather believe some made up rumor than what you knew to be true. So tell me Jessica, did you drag yourself to my funeral? And what about you-the rest of you- did you drag yourself to my funeral, and if you did, did you see the scars you left? No, probably not because most of them can't been seen with the naked eye.

But it always came back to anger.

But, Jocelyn, if I really were all those things [good, kind, talented, hard working, open to change, and adorable]... ...I would die.' I wasn't sure what I meant by this, but it suddenly struck me as the truth. 'Because you'd rather die than feel anger at your mother for not giving you what you needed?

But my anger was a slippery thing, like a fish I was trying to keep hold of, and it wiggled out of my grasp.

But sadness was familiar; sadness was manageable. It didn't transform her, the way the raging anger did. She could remain herself and still feel this aching grief.

But what is unjust? That depends on a person's thoughts, values, and beliefs. People differ sharply on what is just or unjust in this world. Thus, some people become angry much quicker than others.

But the anger has not only drawn attention to injustice; it has driven people to action, sparking movements and spurring them forward. At the very least, the public expression of black rage has allowed communities and people who have felt isolated in their own anger to know that they are not alone. Anger is what makes our struggle visible.

But until this night, she had never once actually wet the bed. And now that she has, we just lie there in the accident, and the minutes of the clock keep changing, and the love I have for her keeps growing, and we both keep drawing breath. What was so horrible about it? Why had I always been so angry? What was my need to always be right? To win every argument with her? To out-stubborn a dog? And just like that, all the anger is gone. Released like the emptying of a bladder into soft cotton sheets as we lie in the wetness.

But then Klaudia's lips curled ino a conniving smile."Actually, Aria, I'm going to fuck your boyfriend. Tonight." Aria started at her. It felt like Klaudia had just punched her in the throat. "Excuse me?" Klaudia scooted closer to Aria. "I'm going to fuck your boyfried," she said again -in textbook-perfect English. "Tonight. And there's nothing you can do about it.

But when people are angry, they tend to say things they do not mean... Anger is a very powerful feeling.

But when you try to stop your rising anger, [your mind] is split between your angry thoughts and your thoughts of stopping them. It’s as if you’re chasing after someone who is running away, except that you’re both the runner and the one pursuing him as well! [...] So the idea of trying to stop [your thoughts] is wrong. Since that’s how it is, when you no longer bother about those rising thoughts, not trying either to stop them or not to stop them, that’s the Unborn Buddha Mind.

But with evil the roots are as deep and branched as the oldest tree. The motivations are such a spiderweb of nature and nurture and choice and anger and greed and hatred all woven into a sticky mess.

But you can only go so long being angry before you learn to hate.

But you know as well as I do that anger won’t solve anything.” “I beg to differ,” he shrugged. “Anger can be quite rewarding…at least for those of us who have the option of blasting our enemies to oblivion.

By forcing your dark secrets to surface, and revealing your evil capacities, you can begin to work at them, and put them in a space where you can control their power and influence in your life.

Calmness subdues anger.

Casiopea rested both hands on the chest and for a moment considered leaving well enough alone. But she was angry, and more than that, curious. What if indeed there was money locked away in there? The old man owed her something for her suffering. Everyone owed her. Casiopea inserted the key and turned the lock, and flipped the lid open.

Can we overcome our anger, instead of constantly being overcome by it? Yes—with God’s help. Peter’s anger was channeled into boldness for Christ. Paul’s anger against Christians was replaced with a burning passion to spread the Gospel. Is this your goal?

Carl Mørck, am I disturbing you? said a voice at the door, which made his blood boil and turn to ice at the same time. His spinal cord sent five commands through his infrastructure: get rid of the eraser, cover the last line, put away the cigarette, drop the stupid facial expression, close your mouth!

Celebrate differences, give love, and more love. Anything short is a rigidity that cuts both ways and spawns odium and ire

Cath probably should have texted Abel by now, just to tell him that she'd made it - but she wanted to wait until she felt more breezy and nonchalant. You can't take back texts. If you come off all moody and melancholy in a text, it just sits there in your phone, reminding you of what a drag you are.

Can we just be grateful for beauty & joy, fascination & tolerance, humour & love, nature & grace, and simply release any anger and pains?

Cela ne se remarque pas, mais il est hors de lui. Il y a des gens chez qui ça ne se voit pas.

Change is constant.

Change is difficult, since it challenges the status quo.

Change is possible only if the top management agrees.

Charles never felt more helpless. To hear a cop calling for help and not be able to respond in what may very well be a life and death situation, drove him insane with anger and frustration.