All Quotes By Tag: Anger

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

“It didn’t hurt me. Not “hurt”. Hurt is a four letter word. It’s short, almost cute sounding. Aawwww, did that hurt? No. It didn’t hurt. Destroyed, Obliterated, Desecrated, Annihilated, Demolished, Shattered, or Demoralised maybe… But no. It didn’t hurt me. It didn’t “hurt” me at all.”

“Vengeance ought to be spoken through gritted teeth, spittle flying, the cords of one’s soul so entangled in it that you can’t let it go, even if you try. If you feel it–if you really feel it–then you speak it like it’s a still-beating heart clenched in your fist and there’s blood running down your arm, dripping off your elbow, and you can’t let go.”

“If you have influence on other people. Dont be influenced by their hate, money, jealousy, anger and popularity .”

“I need to ask, are you afraid of spiders?”Nicholas blinked, suddenly caught off guard, “Yes, I’m afraid of spiders.””Were you always?””What are you, a psychiatrist?”Pritam took a breath. He could feel Laine’s eyes on him, appraising his line of questioning.”Is it possible that the trauma of losing your best friend as a child and the trauma of losing your wife as an adult and the trauma of seeing Laine’s husband take his life in front of you just recently…” Pritam shrugged and raised his palms, “You see where I’m going?”Nicholas looked at Laine. She watched back. Her gray eyes missed nothing.”Sure,” agreed Nicholas, standing. “And my sister’s nuts, too, and we both like imagining that little white dogs are big nasty spiders because our daddy died and we never got enough cuddles.””Your father died?” asked Laine. “When?””Who cares?”Pritam sighed. “You must see this from our point of – “”I’d love to!” snapped Nicholas. “I’d love to see it from your point of view, because mine is not that much fun! It’s insane! It’s insane that I see dead people, Pritam! It’s insane that this,” he flicked out the sardonyx necklace,”stopped me from kidnapping a little girl!””That’s what you believe,” Pritam said carefully.”That’s what I fucking believe!” Nicholas stabbed his finger through the air at the dead bird talisman lying slack on the coffee table.”

“Why there isn’t any drama in my lifeSo I’ll crawl on the cottonfield with a fifeWhy to have a dream in vain my life begsAm a house gecko, I eat flies and lay eggsMy death surely doesn’t yield a headline and allI’ll break law by pissing on a castle’s wallFor my death there wouldn’t be a weeping meniFrom the name of Lady Canning there’s ledikeniOne foot on heaven and one foot on hell, hangingOne cannon and two cannonballs dangling.”

“O, that this too too solid flesh would meltThaw and resolve itself into a dew!Or that the Everlasting had not fix’dHis canon ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,Seem to me all the uses of this world!Fie on’t! ah fie! ’tis an unweeded garden,That grows to seed; things rank and gross in naturePossess it merely. That it should come to this!But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:So excellent a king; that was, to this,Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my motherThat he might not beteem the winds of heavenVisit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,As if increase of appetite had grownBy what it fed on: and yet, within a month–Let me not think on’t–Frailty, thy name is woman!–A little month, or ere those shoes were oldWith which she follow’d my poor father’s body,Like Niobe, all tears:–why she, even she–O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,Would have mourn’d longer–married with my uncle,My father’s brother, but no more like my fatherThan I to Hercules: within a month:Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tearsHad left the flushing in her galled eyes,She married. O, most wicked speed, to postWith such dexterity to incestuous sheets!It is not nor it cannot come to good:But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.”

“Silence is a lie that screams at the light.”

“What I have learned lately is that people deal with death in all sorts of ways. Some of us fight against it, doing everything we can to make it not true. Some of us lose our selves to grief. Some of us lose ourselves to anger.”

“…deceitful!” she decided with a little bounce of fury that briefly ballooned the silk of her trousers. “There! You deceitful …”“Gillia…”“…misleading, dishonest, insincere…”“Those are all the same words, Gill—”“Ooh! Liar!” She’d managed to get her hands on a small pillow. He ducked just as it whizzed past him. In justice, however, it did strike the mosaic vase behind him on an engraved mahogany pedestal, and it tipped and spun on its base before landing in a shattered heap on the bare floor. “Now, look what you’ve done!” she accused tearfully and bolted from the room.”

“Anger gets me going.Hope sustains me.”

“What we all share in common – the real reason for this book – is a desire to love better. To love ourselves in the midst of great pain, and to love another when the pain of this life grows too large for one person to hold. This book offers the skills needed to make that kind of love a reality.”

“Her mouth set. “I’ve already lost one man I loved tonight. I will not lose the other.” She glared at him. “And curse you, you stone head, for making me say it first.”

“Anger is a mask that tries to hide inner weakness.”

“Never annoy an inspirational author or you will become the poison in her pen and the villian in every one of her books.”