Angry Quotes
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Do not be angry with an ungrateful person; probably they are confused or inexperienced.
Chico Xavier
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It is in vain that we search for an essential difference between good and evil, for their constituents are the same. The crucial distinction lies in their structure, i.e., the manner in which the pieces are assembled. Evil is disintegration, an angry juxtaposition of alienated opposites, with parts always striving to repress other parts. Good is the synthesis and reconciliation of these same pieces.
Charles Hampden-Turner
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You can't get angry just because you can't control the world as you please.
Cho Kyuhyun
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Now, don't be angry after you've been afraid. That's the worst kind of cowardice.
Rudyard Kipling
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What makes me angry is the idea that people would be going to a movie because of what I said about it. It makes me feel, I don't know, arrogant, self-important, self-aggrandizing, whatever. Like I'm being used.
Todd Solondz
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But, children, you should never let Such angry passions rise; Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes.
Isaac Watts
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After a few years, we realized that you did have to put some work into it. That's why the bimbo comments make me angry. After seven years, people have to realize we have a certain amount of talent.
Keren Woodward
Bananarama
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If you listen to people talk, when people actually talk, they talk in melodies. If they get angry, their voice rises, and it's more of a staccato thing. When they ask for something, they're real sweet. It's all music.
John Prine
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Do you desire not to be angry? Be not inquisitive. He who inquires what is said of him only works out his own misery.
Seneca the Younger
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I know no surer way of shaking off the dreary crust formed about the soul by the trying to do one’s duty or the patient enduring of having somebody else’s duty done to one, than going out alone, either at the bright beginning of the day, when the earth is still unsoiled by the feet of the strenuous and only God is abroad; or in the evening, when the hush has come, out to the blessed stars, and looking up at them wonder at the meanness of the day just past, at the worthlessness of the things one has struggled for, at the folly of having been so angry, and so restless, and so much afraid. Nothing focusses life more exactly than a little while alone at night with the stars. What are perfunctory bedroom prayers hurried through in an atmosphere of blankets, to this deep abasement of the spirit before the majesty of heaven? And as a consecration of what should be yet one more happy day, of what value are those hasty morning devotions.
Elizabeth von Arnim
