The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, shows us to others, but hides us from ourselves.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Anger has a way of seeping into every other emotion and planting itself in there.
Anger is implanted in us as sort of sting, to make us gnash with our teeth against the devil, to make us vehement against him, not to set us in array against each other.
Anger elicits anger, fear elicits fear, no matter how well meaning we may be.
Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind.
I have to say that anger is the blanket that comes around me, and that blunts and blurs my sense of proportion.
Anger is one of the sinews of the soul.
Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.
To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.
Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - it takes something from him.
I suppose there's an anger in all of us. Some hidden rage that you keep at bay.
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