Best 2450 quotes in «anger quotes» category

when your emotions are in motion, take a break and ponder!

When you're sad, everything sad builds up. The most painfully truthful thoughts arise, uninvited and unforgiving. The brain, a devoted soldier, always successful, somehow manages to rapidly search its host's darkness. There is no escape to what is next. First, all the buried thoughts you locked in a gloomy chest are released. Second, you begin crying over what you never wanted to admit. Suddenly, you begin to cry over things you did not even know actually deeply hurt you. And sometimes, the wet physicalization of your sorrow isn't enough. Instead, a violent madness stirs in your chest and your head is polluted with a red so angry, your jaw opens to fill the earth with a scream so rare you lose a little of yourself. Your roaring voice trails in pieces, like bullet fragments in flesh, to complete the song that is Loss.

When you see injustice among the nations, you will find out that the root cause is covetousnes.

When you walk alone in nature and you are angry, you realize that you brought the bullshit with you.

When you took a man's job away from him, his ability to feed and clothe his family, that man was going to get angry.

When you use anger to win a fight, you lose by default.

When you understand who you are by knowing what God created you to do, you have no room for becoming jealous over what someone else is doing.

Where are you?" I wheeze into the floor. "Where did you go?

Where there are kashays (anger-pride-deceit-greed), there is worldly life. As long as anger-pride-deceit-greed exist; one is a sansaari [living a worldly life] regardless of whether one is an ascetic or a family man. And where anger-pride-deceit-greed are absent, one is regarded as being asansaari [non-worldly], be he an ascetic or a family man.

Where we fall are the stepping-stones for our journey.

While not as common as they used to be, entire groups of people with what seems like an infinite amount of time on their hands to be angry about something that doesn't even affect them in the slightest, still exist.

Who can name a death that was not tragic?” the speaker asks. “Is there a way for us to find meaning in the losses we've suffered? Who can say that one soul has a heavier grievance than another? We were all victims. We need to forgive each other.” Remember? Yes. Forgive? No.

Who gives you pain? Your anger, pride, illusion and greed. Where is the fault of the nature in all this?

When you yell at me I close my eyes and shut my ears To never hear a word you say I never want you to see my tears I know you need to shout aloud For you to hear your voice sears For you to know it doesn't hurt For you to know that it's still here That you no longer hear them scream I see your eyes are turning red I know your voice has bled as it turns my name to shreds I know you need to let it out I know you feel the walloping hell When all your inside is burning embers I know you need to shout aloud For you to know that you're still here For you to cover all your seams For you to take a heaving breath And finally clamor a silent dread -because anger is a mourning of a different kind

Where anger-pride-deceit-greed is absent, the worldly interactions are pure. Or else, if there is attentive awareness [upayog] over them, till then it is acceptable.

Why are you so angry?” His question surprised me, and I laughed a little. “This isn’t angry,” I smirked. “This is just me. Get used to it.

Why can't you see me? Everyone else can.

Why did I allow the abuse to continue? Even as a teenager? I didn’t. Something that had been plaguing me for years now made sense. It was like the answer to a terrible secret. The thing is, it wasn’t me in my bed, it was Shirley who lay the wondering if that man was going to come to her room, pull back the cover and push his penis into her waiting mouth it was Shirley. I remembered watching her, a skinny little thing with no breasts and a dark resentful expression. She was angry. She didn’t want this man in her room doing the things he did, but she didn’t know how to stop it. He didn’t beat her, he didn’t threaten her. He just looked at her with black hypnotic eyes and she lay back with her legs apart thinking about nothing at all. And where was I? I stood to one side, or hovered overhead just below the ceiling, or rode on a magic carpet. I held my breath and watched my father pushing up and down inside Shirley’s skinny body.

Why did you revive me?” Alecto repeated. “Well… uh, well….” Mandy hesitated, her voice full of sudden misery. “They say there are five stages of grief, you know… five stages. denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Not in any particular order. Anyhow, I denied your death, I was angry about it, I bargained with Mearth to try and get her to un-bury your site and I was depressed about the whole ordeal. One thing I just froze up on though was acceptance. I just couldn’t accept your death. It was really cruel the way you died, and I missed you so much… Mearth, my parents, the cops, Dr. Pottie, they all thought I was crazy. When people think you’re crazy, that label automatically dehumanizes you, because people can use it to discredit everything you say with, “oh, pay no mind to her, she’s just this crazy lunatic with a dead imaginary friend.” I just wanted to do something, anything to make it all go away, and I decided that I wanted to revive you.

Why does anger makes people pretty? Rage doesn't. Rage makes you ugly, but a little anger, that just seems to add spice. One of nature's cruelties, or maybe it's to keep us from killing each other more often.

Why is it deemed justifiable and appropriate for cops/police officers to kill other cops (friendly–fire) and citizens? Why do cops kill? Are they not taught to maim or slow down someone running or reaching for a weapon? If not, why not? Why do cops kill first and ask questions last? Why are police officers being military trained? What can we as citizens, taxpayers, and voters do to stop these killings and beatings of unarmed people? Why do we let this continue? How many more must die or get beat up before we realize something is wrong and needs to be changed? Will you, a friend, or a family member have to be killed or beaten by a cop before we realize that things have to change? Who's here to protect us from the cops when they decide to use excessive force, shoot multiple shells, and/or murder us?

Why there isn't any drama in my life So I'll crawl on the cottonfield with a fife Why to have a dream in vain my life begs Am a house gecko, I eat flies and lay eggs My death surely doesn't yield a headline and all I'll break law by pissing on a castle's wall For my death there wouldn't be a weeping meni From the name of Lady Canning there's ledikeni One foot on heaven and one foot on hell, hanging One cannon and two cannonballs dangling.

Why does everything move so fast when you are angry?

Why was it that her temper and her thinking never happened at the same time? Her temper behaved like a glutton sitting in an expensive restaurant ordering a hundred dishes, only to disappear when the bill came due. It left her lucid mind to do dishes.

Why was everyone so interested in her now? When it was too late to change anything? What was the point?

Wild fury and righteous anger stirs up in the hearts of men. Driving them to action, to battle, to fight. Hopefully, it’s tempered with the code, with the order. Fury must be kept in check, and be used to propel justice, to free the oppressed, to protect.

... Will ye be there for him in his time of need, or do you prefer to take your anger with you to the grave?

Wisdom without Christ brings bitterness; with Christ it brings compassion.

With a common ground, solution of problems is easy.

With emotions ranging from fear, grief and anger to happiness and relief, the process of bringing home a child who needs in-home care can be complicated

Without a measure of anger against injustice, a person, a society or a whole nation would have to live perpetually under the bondage of injustice.

Without healthy anger to keep us safe and empowered, people would constantly end up crossing our boundaries and taking advantage of us - even without meaning to.

Without forgiveness and love, you will live with resentment, bitterness, malice and strife which result in more pain. You can never love without forgiving. Forgiveness deepens your ability to love and frees you from pain.

Why should this happen to me when I planned and worked… and came so far?

With patient, you shall possess your soul.

Women should be angry about the violence and fear that inform so much of our lives. So should men.

Women's Tongues are as sharp as two-edged Swords, and wound as much, when they are anger'd.

Women live quietly," I said. "However angry or broken a woman might get, she does not think about beating someone, does she?

Women live their lives trying to create bodies of deference. And anger is not compatible with deference... In the "cosmetic panopticon," expressing anger is disobedient and rebellious, powerful and threatening, because it is the seed of aggression and collective action.

Words. Just little black marks on paper. Just sounds in the empty air. But think of the power they have! They can make you laugh or cry, love or hate, fight or run away. They can heal or hurt. They even come to look and sound like what they mean. Angry looks angry on the page. Ugly sounds ugly when you say it.

Words motivate.

Words flooded like the storm's surge in a wild burst of anger that took me utterly by surprise.

Work always makes a difference.

Workers can offer guidance for improving the work.

Without pain, there is no call for anger, much less rampaging.

Yeah, well, we're all afraid." I sighed. "The angry more than most, I think.

Yes?" "When you said you weren't angry..." "Yes?" "Were you?" "I was rather annoyed," he admitted. "But not angry?" She sounded as if she didn't believe him. "Believe me, Henry, when I get angry, you'll know." "What happens?" His eyes clouded over slightly before he answered. "You don't want to know." She believed him.

You and your anger are needed. You and your anger are valuable. You and your anger will be the fire that burns it all down.

You be as angry as you need to be," she said. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not your grandma, not your dad, no one. And if you need to break things, then by God, you break them good and hard." He couldn't look at her. He just couldn't. "And if, one day," she said, really crying now, "you look back and you feel bad for being so angry, if you feel bad for being so angry at me that you couldn't even speak to me, then you have to know, Conor, you have to know that it was okay. It was okay. That I knew. I know, okay? I know everything you need to tell me without you having to say it out loud. All right?" He still couldn't look at her. He couldn't raise his head, it felt so heavy. He was bent in two, like he was being torn right down through his middle. But he nodded.

You can be a person with a strong passion or holy anger and be furious in a way that will make the society safer, godly, with social justice and equity.