#on

Anger is so easy to get into and so hard to get out of. ↗

— Regena Thomashauer

#emotions #rage #anger

If we indulge in inordinate affection, anger, anxiety, God holds us responsible; but He also insists that we have to be passionately filled with the right emotions. ↗

— Oswald Chambers

#passions #anger

Monsters were declared to be warnings against sin, individual or collective, and demonstrations of the anger and the glory of God. ↗

— Dudley Wilson

#anger

We need to cry out to the Lord when we feel the waves of terror or anger crashing around us. He is always within reach, ready to stretch out his hand to steady us. ↗

— Shirley Corder

#lord #terror #anger

Dad scowls. "Phen." He says the name like it's a swear word. "Disgusting, cowardly creatures, the ambivalent. Worse than the fallen, in many ways." His eyes are so fierce it's a tad scary. "They have no conviction at all. ↗

— Cynthia Hand

#angels #anger #conviction #cowardly #disgust

It was days like this when I felt it more than ever: I wasn’t a real human. ↗

— Melanie Cusick-Jones

#depression #disillusioned #anger

Suddenly Ammu hoped that it had been him that Rahel saw him in the march. She hoped it had been him that raised his flag and knotted arm in anger. She hoped that under his careful cloak of cheerfulness he housed a living breathing anger against the smug, ordered world that she raged against. ↗

— Arundhati Roy

#india #rage #revolution #anger

He hadn't meant to get so angry at Morgan. He didn't often get angry at other people. There was no sense in it. The person you were angry at was rarely ever repentant. Now, getting angry with yourself had some merit. It showed you had sense enough to chastise the one person who had any hope of benefiting from it. And he was plenty angry with himself. For many things. ↗

— Sarah Addison Allen

#improvement #self-realization #anger

The beauty you see in me is a reflection of you. ↗

— Vanna Bonta

#beauty

Tonight his father had caught up, carrying all the horrors of hell with him. His mother could no longer protect him—hide him—and now his father‟s wrath would fall on him. He ran across the fields and through the forest, his bare feet carrying him as fast as they could go, aching and bleeding into the night. He could feel his father‟s eyes on him and his stinking breath filling Raven‟s nostrils as he rushed toward the only place he had ever found safe. He sobbed, choking on his grief and his frustration—the horrible guilt of carrying all the anger from his father into their house making him sick and afraid. He ran with lungs and muscles burning from strain, throwing himself through the doors of the castle when he reached them and only then chancing to look back the way he‟d come. ↗

— Amanda M. Lyons

#castles #eyes-like-blue-fire #fear #past #anger