Best 79 quotes in «fury quotes» category

Scholarship hath no fury like that of a language purist faced with sludge.

Shut up, sod off, and let me in. (Fury)

The belief in poetry is a magnificent fury, or it is nothing.

The only way I've been able to stay informed without letting fury rule my life is to channel my rage into something that ultimately feels like love to me. The place I do that the best is in my writing. That's where I feel like I can tap into the power of story and maybe bring something good into the world.

The problem with ruling by fear is that eventually, when the fear fades, fury replaces it.

The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted from us the gracious favor of the gods.

Troops of furies march in the drunkard's triumph.

Then I’ll do some digging. (Fury) You just can’t help this kamikaze streak you have, can you? (Sasha)

Vane passed the mashed potatoes across Bride to Fury, who stared at them with a fierce frown "What are these?" he asked. "Potatoes," Vane told him. "What did they do to them?

We are the ghosts of the singing furies .

we know that the Furies do not come uninvited.

We shall find no fiend in hell can match the fury of a disappointed woman; scorned, slighted, dismissed without a parting pang.

There's no fury more righteous than that of a sinner accused of the wrong sin.

Anger swirled in him, a tempest readying her strike. And like a helpless vessel caught in her fury, he felt himself dashed against the rocks without mercy.

A dingily bilious sun was seeping through a tent of black clouds. Passersby, spitefully elbowing elbows, were rushing along the pavement. People thronging the doorways of shops tried to pummel their way through and stuck fast, their faces flushed with spite and fury, their teeth bared.

An angry man rarely stops to let facts get in the way of his fury.

The vitality of a new movement in Art must be gauged by the fury it arouses.

A person's true character lies somewhere until after you might have pressed the wrong button without knowing, then you'll realize that there are dogs in human form.

As he returned to the bed, he could see Vallant eyeing him warily, but he ignored this, sat on the opposite end and braced the pad on his knee. You think after all that, I will leave? What sort of monster do you take me for? You think I could be that callous? No better than the piece of filth who used you, nor the soulless fiend who sold you? He ripped off the page and handed it over, but he began a second note even before Vallant had taken the first from his hand. Is this bastard still alive? I assume not, that Rodger had him strangled? He had to pause, forcing his grip on the pencil to lighten before he went on. I want his name, if he isn't already dispatched. I'm not without resources or influence. And I'm very difficult to prosecute.

But even of him I can think of with sorrow, now at this moment. Those times, those people...have gone. How can there be fury felt for things that are gone to dust.

Enójate, ponte furiosa si quieres, pero no dejes que esos sentimientos te duren más de 5 minutos, porque si lo permites, entonces habrás perdido la batalla.

First, the wind would rumble in the distance like an approaching river, then he would see grass bend, pressed by a great invisible hand. The dull rumble would rise in pitch to a swishing, lashing exultation, causing stalks to lie flat against the ground while the tougher branches of shrubs held themselves up and shrieked their defiance in the gusts. Then the first drops, cold and heavy, would plummet from the sky and burst on the ground.

Flames of outrage and reprisal had likewise made a comeback, his nearly forgotten, silent heritage no longer hidden by thirty years of compliance. Instead the fire grew, unmitigated by training, logic or reason.

Fury reigns down on those who ignore in the wisdom of fear itself.

Anger is a consuming thing, a burning takeover. It sets up shop in your heart and head and murders anything else attempting to makes it way in. Life becomes obsessed with it, clouded with it, engrossed in it. You justify feeling with delusions that you're owed retribution. You condone thoughts and vengeful acts, feeding yourself with the idea that it's warranted. But that nourishment comes at a price. It costs you pieces of your soul, your love, your worth. You disregard your beliefs, your conscience. You adopt apathy like it's salvation because you know in your heart of hearts that you would deteriorate into nothing without it. Because you don't want to let it go. It makes you feel powerful, that anger. It makes you feel important. So you will let it eat you alive, consume every part of you until all that's left is hollow revenge.

Anger gets you into trouble, ego keeps you in trouble.

Fury invaded where fear dare not. The thirst for revenge still burned his throat and coated his tongue. The last few days, he'd been a complete ass, visiting violence on his brothers because he could, because they would take it, because, in the end, they were the same. Monsters all.

If his men could have seen his young face under his faceplate, or if they could have heard the silent curses rolling off his tongue, they would have realized to their astonishment that their captain, only twenty years of age but already famous and formidable, was crying. Astrias's tears were tears of burning fury. The rage he felt that hour he would never forget for his whole life thereafter.

I can hear the tick tick tick in my head: A tripwire ready to explode in fury. And then, in my mind, I start to count down from ten…any moment now.

I could burn this place down As many times as I'd like in my mind, Without any sympathy For the girl or her mother Who live beneath me

I ‘fear’ an intelligent man who has a pen, but I am much more careful with a man without understanding who has a cutlass. The former can be dangerous, but the latter can be very bloody!

Instead of courage' management guru Tom Peters recommends fostering 'a level of fury with the status quo such that one cannot not act.

It is human to be angry, but childish to be controlled by anger.

I think the time that I knew that I was capable of all the things that I disliked the most in other people was, oddly enough, one of the most joyful moments: when our first child was born. And I just felt this love for this beautiful little girl who was so fragile and so vulnerable. Some point around that week, I started to understand why wars were fought. I started to understand why people were capable of cruelty in order to protect themselves and their own. And I was very humbled to realise that.

Muscles tore and scarlet poured with each swing the dragon could muster and he roared.

Loved with obsessive devotion, hated with barely controlled fury.

—¡¿Me buscabais?! —Así es, Gryal Ibori. —¡Pues aquí me tenéis! —gritó furioso, con el alma ardiente y la voz quebrada. Estaba cansado de todo y de todos. Sólo quería ver a Lorette, reunirse con ella y estar a su lado. Y corrió hacia sus enemigos, como un león herido y rodeado, como un hombre que sólo tiembla por frío y sólo llora por amor. Su capa negra se deslizó en el viento, cual triste bandera, y Gryal cortó el aire con su espada ensangrentada.

Must I at length the Sword of Justice draw? Oh curst Effects of necessary Law! How ill my Fear they by my Mercy scan, Beware the Fury of a Patient Man.

My rage is derived from eyes so sharp they see through the idiocy being passed off as sophistication. Under the cloak of universal themes and terms such as freedom, change, and acceptance, madness ensues, being readily welcomed by those whose mind's eye questions nothing.

...my father, [was] a mid-level phonecompany manager who treated my mother at best like an incompetent employee. At worst? He never beat her, but his pure, inarticulate fury would fill the house for days, weeks, at a time, making the air humid, hard to breathe, my father stalking around with his lower jaw jutting out, giving him the look of a wounded, vengeful boxer, grinding his teeth so loud you could hear it across the room ... I'm sure he told himself: 'I never hit her'. I'm sure because of this technicality he never saw himself as an abuser. But he turned our family life into an endless road trip with bad directions and a rage-clenched driver, a vacation that never got a chance to be fun.

Nobody knows the words to use today. They are committed only to their individual furies.

No one has ever envied someone for their impatience or the intensity of their anger.

Revolted and offended, this child was fighting her mother in her head and did not even blink.

She had spent the majority of her days in some sort of a tizzy and had developed over the course of her life a tizzy repertoire of abundant variety, from the black depressive tizzy to the anxious weepy tizzy to the more traditional furious tizzy, which almost always involved projectiles.

Saying of the Prophet Anger You ask for a piece of advice. I tell you: 'Do not get angry.' He is strong who can withhold anger.

She flew in, all fiery flashing eyes and flushed cheeks, her bosom heaving beneath black wool. She was magnificent. "Tell them to let her go!" Séraphine ordered him imperiously. "Tell them to let her go right now." She stood over him, her lips wet, her body shaking with her rage, and he wanted to take her and roll her beneath him and fuck her into the mattress.

Someone engulfed by fury cannot think rationally.

Since boyhood, fury had become his father. His older brother. His only protector. Fury gave him strength and courage and spurred him to always move forward despite always getting things wrong and always failing and no mentor there to help him or teach him and everyone always laughing. Anger delivered him from catastrophe. Rage kept him from going under. It had come to be his greatest asset and only strategy.

Western corporate governments are far more likely to damage your health or kill you prematurely than anyone from North Korea.

Some people take offense like it's a limited time offer.