Inspirational Quotes Anger Novels & Stories

“You heard me correctly. Until you quit being a fuvking slut, Hannah!” I have never felt so much anger. The resentment builds in me, crawls up my throat and lodges, making me vibrate. I glare at him and the knot holding my sense of reasoning intact goes loose. Throwing whatever caution I have to the wind, I snap his hand off me and I face him leveledly.

It was a test, a reflection of everything I had feared, everything I had felt powerless against. She continued to speak, her words like a whisper carried on the wind. “You must not let anger guide you. You cannot allow your pack, your friends, or yourself to be consumed by the idea that someone meant to hurt you directly. You are stronger than that. You are responsible for your choices, not the accidents that have befallen the world around you.”

He added and I nodded my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “I know, I still remember everything you told me but how can I hold back when someone insults your legacy? When someone insults my family? No one should be able to stay calm, no one should stay calm, no one at all will be able to stay calm from what I have gone through. Don’t I get to express myself. Am I not allowed to get angry?” I asked, my voice getting louder with each word.

“Oh, I don’t. I’m not afraid of them—I am afraid of what I will do. When I get angry, I just can’t think.” “Well then do like me: stop trying to control the anger.” “Then I’ll end up like you. Killing everything I don’t like.” “Exactly. It gets rid of the problem.” I roll my eyes. “Seriously though, I am not ready at all. I know this. But I will step up and do my best.” “Good. And don’t take shit from anyone. If you have to kill someone to make a point, do it.” “No.” “Just an idea.”

Staggering, he raised a half-full bottle of alcohol and roared at Amanda, "Amanda, you wicked woman! You sent Fanny abroad, ran off with my child, and you didn't even want me to know! This is utterly unfair to me!" Amanda tried hard to suppress her rage. She was gentle and understanding—this wasn't a facade, but her true self. Don't get angry, getting angry means losing. A woman's eyes can tenderly watch suffering or sharply overlook luxury; a woman's hands can cook a feast of circulating deliciousness or command a ship underway. This was a quote she had seen online, beautiful and one she loved. She continuously reassured herself internally: I am not a female devil. I absolutely will not hit

Maybe into memory, maybe into starlight, maybe just into the person left behind who carries it forward. I know you're angry right now. Angry at the world, at the disease, maybe even at me for leaving you. That's okay. I'd be furious too. Be angry. Throw things. Scream at the sky. Curse my name if you need to. I won't be offended, I promise. But don't stay there, Rafael. Don't let the anger harden into something permanent. Don't let it become the thing that defines you.

contradictory Feeling angry sometimes may be perfectly legitimate and very appropriate, as long as we manage to control ourselves, and do not do anything that you may regret later. Showing anger reminds others that we are not powerless, that we have been hurt, assaulted, or threatened in a serious and dangerous manner, and that their actions have caused us to feel deep, deep pain. We get angry only when necessary; Which matters are very serious, and it is also not good to get angry and project your anger on innocent people, if you cannot release your anger in a way You should find a way to release your anger without hurting anyone else. But you have to release your anger; Because pent-up ang

"And now you learn something you did not know before. When your body has nothing left, your anger can still carry you." I wipe blood from my lip with the back of my hand. "Is that what you wanted to teach me?" "I wanted to see if you had it in you." He looks at me directly. "Anger is dangerous. It makes you stupid. It makes you sloppy, but it is also fuel. And right now, fuel is the only thing keeping you alive." He turns and walks back toward the building. "Clean yourself up. We start again in an hour." I stand alone in the clearing, surrounded by trees and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke. My body hurts in ways I never belive it could. My hands will not stop shaking, and my lip is st

How can someone, especially close to me, ever judge my past, even with the best intentions, if they have no idea what I experienced? There are many reasons why I remind everyone that anger is dangerous. In my case, not only does my temper go from zero to prison in seconds, but it also wipes out the remains of the filter I have. "Proud? Should I feel fucking proud? For what? Seriously, for what, Laz?" I spin on my heel to shrug off his hand and stare into my brother's eyes. All I see is red, and though I'm probably raising my voice, I can barely hear the words rolling off my tongue. "Should I feel proud for being weak and stopping at the verge of death? Or maybe I should feel proud for findin

Squeezing my eyes shut I turn around trying my best to calm myself , I storm toward my room. I space from one place to another more passing minute my anger was rising I remember the prophetic way to control your anger The Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said: "If any of you becomes angry and he is standing, let him sit down, so his anger will go away; if it does not go away, let him lie down." I was so angry that I decided to lie down for a little.