Blessed are those who can live their life without anger, jealousy, or grudge. Have a bright and peaceful morning.

Most of the world was mad. And the part that wasn’t mad was angry. And the part that wasn’t mad or angry was just stupid.

Well, I had a chip on my shoulder back then. I was like a lion that hadn’t been fed. A problem child that was too much for my teachers and parents to handle. I wonder why it’s so easy to “go bad”? Before I knew it, I’d joined “the ladies”. […] We beat people up, got beat up, started fires, got chased by the cops…to be honest, if I told you everything we did, it’d make your hair stand on end. The point is, I was an unrepentant moron. But even so, there was one person I idolized. That was Kyoko-san.

Cab Dispatcher: Hey! Get your car out of here!
Del: Yeah, just one sec.
Cab Dispatcher: GET IT OUT OF HERE!
Del: What is your problem? You insensitive asshole! Can’t you see we have an injured man down here? Now I’ll move my car, but I want you to help him up!
Neal: No!
Cab Dispatcher: My pleasure.
Neal: Oh!

No, wait, don’t apologize. I’m not mad or anything, I swear!

Damn Rat!

That’s hurts. What is it? Are you angry now? You think I should just mind my own business, is that it? You made this my

Oh, have my words… made you angry?

Kagura Sohma: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, KYO! – A CHOCOLATE HEART STUFFED FULL OF MY LOVE – ALL FOR YOU!
Kyo Sohma: Keep it! What man in

Shigure Sohma: We’ve just witnessed a classic example of what I like to call Misdirected Rage. I believe the technical term is Being an Ass.
Kyo

Rambo: They’re all dead. All of them. I could have killed you ten times, but I wanted you last.
Hugo Martinez: Fuck you.
Rambo: No, fuck you, dead man. I want you to feel my rage, my hate, when I reach into your chest and RIP OUT YOUR HEART! Like you did mine.
Hugo Martinez: Fuck you… and your bitch too!
Rambo: You wanna live? Follow the lights!

Brian: Mia, I’m a cop.
Mia: What are you talking about, Brian?
Brian: Ever since I met you, I’ve been undercover. I’m a cop.
Mia: Oh, you bastard. You bastard!

For a long time, I was mad at you. The way you cut me out of everything hurt me, and so I kept what I knew to myself. But then even after I wasn’t mad anymore, I still didn’t say anything, and I don’t even really know why. Pudge had that kiss, I guess. And I had this secret.

No reason to be angry. Anger just distracts from the all-encompassing sadness, the frank knowledge that you killed her and robbed her of a future and a life.

Sticks and stones are hard on bones aimed with angry art. Words can sting like anything but silence breaks the heart.

I was so tired of her getting upset for no reason. The way she would get sulky and make references to the freaking oppressive nature of tragedy or whatever but then never said what was wrong, never have any goddamned reason to be sad. And I just think you ought to have a reason. My girlfriend dumped me, so I’m sad. I got caught smoking, so I’m pissed off. My head hurts, so I’m cranky. She never had a reason, Pudge. I was just so tired of putting up with her drama. And I just let her go. Christ.

Getting pissed wouldn’t fix it. Damn it.

Silence is never more golden than when a quarrel is brewing.

Don’t let anything anger you, or make you jealous. Have a peaceful morning!

You’re a member of the Zodiac — one who was born and lives for Akito-san. How dare you betray him! Where do your loyalties lie? Surely you don’t think that girl should win?! That awful…disgraceful…whore! You Members of the Zodiac exist only for Akito-san. You must live for him… and die for him. Without Akito-san… You would all be monsters like that wretched Cat!

I saw Linder about a week later. I had the wrench in my hand… and I hit him! And I didn’t mean to keep hitting him, but by the time I was done, I couldn’t lift my arm. He’s a janitor at an elementary school. He has to take the bus to work… and they banned me from the tracks for life.

The strong man is not the good wrestler. The strong man is only the one who controls himself when he is angry.

It’s everything…everything! Everything pisses me off! Them! And them! And them! And you! Everything, everything…all of you! I fricking hate all of you! You all treat me like garbage, when all of you are the real scumbags! When you’re no better than me! I wish you’d all just leave me alone. I wish you’d all die! Die…! Die! Go to hell! You should vanish! You should break!

I was always taught not to answer no questions. I’m not really good at answering them because I get agitated so fast.

Why am I so pissed off? Feels like something urging me to do…what? But also like I got left behind. What the hell is this vague irritation? Maybe because I was in the middle of all that sickly sweet cheeriness? Yeesh. “Make yourself at home.” Yeah, right. […] This is where I belong. A place where I can fall as far as I want.

Don’t be mad at me for being the best at what I was created to be.

Too pissed off to cry, I said, ‘This is only making me hate her. I don’t want to hate her. And what’s the point, if that’s all it’s making me do?’ Still refusing to answer how and why questions. Still insisting on an aura of mystery.
I leaned forward, head between by knees, and the Colonel placed a head on my upper back. ‘The point is that there are always alsweres, Pudge.’ And then he pushed air out between his pursed lips and I could hear the angry quiver in his voice as he repeated, ‘There are always answers. We just have to be smart enough.’

Nine months. We never got along. I mean, I didn’t even briefly like her. Like, my mom and my dad – my dad would get pissed, and then he would beat the shit out of my mom. And then my dad would be all nice and they’d have a honeymoon period. But with Sara, there’s never a honeymoon period. God, how could she think I was a rat? I know, I know: Why don’t we break up? I guess I stay with her because she stays with me. And that’s not an easy thing to do. I’m a bad boyfriend. She’s a bad girlfriend. We deserve each other.

Insomnia is sometimes caused by an upset stomach, but more often by an upset wife.

Some thoughts are too angry to sleep. They lie awake all night and become obsessions.

Neal: I’d like one room for the night.
Del: If you’re upset, maybe we should get separate rooms.
Neal: You get your own room.
Hotel Clerk: Will you be paying with credit card?
Neal: Yes. I have a Visa card… Diner’s Club card… and a gasoline card.
Hotel Clerk: These aren’t… these aren’t credit cards.
Neal: Do you take cash?
Hotel Clerk: Forty-two fifty.
Neal: How about seventeen dollars…
Hotel Clerk: I can’t do that.
Neal: Please. Have mercy. I’ve been wearing the same underwear since Tuesday.
Del: I can vouch for that.
Hotel Clerk: I don’t own the place, I…
Neal: Seventeen dollars… and a hell of a nice watch?

Car Rental Agent: Welcome to Marathon, may I help you?
Neal: Yes.
Car Rental Agent: How may I help you?
Neal: You can start by wiping that fucking dumb-ass smile off your rosy fucking cheeks! Then you can give me a fucking automobile! A fucking Datsun, a fucking Toyota, a fucking Mustang, a fucking Buick! Four fucking wheels and a seat!
Car Rental Agent: I really don’t care for the way you’re speaking to me.
Neal: And I really don’t care for the way your company left me in the middle of fucking nowhere with fucking keys to a fucking car that isn’t fucking there. And I really didn’t care to fucking walk down a fucking highway and across a fucking runway to get back here to have you smile in my fucking face. I want a fucking car… right… fucking… now.
Car Rental Agent: May I see your rental agreement?
Neal: I threw it away.
Car Rental Agent: Oh, boy.
Neal: Oh, boy, what?
Car Rental Agent: You’re fucked.

Perhaps she was a little mad, but then old women often were.

The customer glared. Then she threw the bonnet at Sophie and stormed out of the shop. Sophie carefully crammed the bonnet into the wastebasket, panting rather. The rule was: Lose your temper, lose a customer. She had just proved that rule. It troubled her to realise how very enjoyable it had been.

For a moment it seemed as if he was going to lose his temper too. His strange, pale eyes all but glared at Sophie. But he controlled himself and said, “Now trot along indoors, you overactive old thing, and find something else to play with before I get angry. I hate getting angry.”

“Of course you hate getting angry!” she retorted. “You don’t like anything unpleasant, do you? You’re a slitherer-outer, that’s what you are! You slither away from anything you don’t like!”