Quotes about fury

Your anger and fury at ungodliness and injustice around you is a license given to you to fulfill a purpose.

Saying of the ProphetAngerYou ask for a piece of advice. I tell you: 'Do not get angry.' He is strong who can withhold anger.

A child cannot quarrel with its elders, as I had done, cannot give its furious feelings uncontrolled play, as I had given mine, without experiencing afterwards the pang of remorse and the chill of reaction. A ridge of lighted heath, alive, glancing, devouring, would have been a meet emblem of my mind when I accused and menaced Mrs. Reed: the same ridge, black and blasted after the flames are dead, would have represented as meetly my subsequent condition.

Let your dissent fuel you, your anger inspire you, your rage convey you, and your fury strike a chilling fear onto the spines of your enemies.

If she captured Tamlin’s power once, who’s to say she can’t do it again?” It was the question I hadn’t yet dared voice.“He won’t be tricked again so easily,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “Her biggest weapon is that she keeps our powers contained. But she can’t access them, not wholly—though she can control us through them. It’s why I’ve never been able to shatter her mind—why she’s not dead already. The moment you break Amarantha’s curse, Tamlin’s wrath will be so great that no force in t

The finest fury is the most controlled.

It had been an awful thing to lose Henry the first time, to matrimony, but to discover what a false front he was capable of was another kind of blow, and it had left her almost speechless. Then there was the fury with herself—for she had known what Henry’s love was, and still she had gone back to suffer a little more at his hands.

A person's true character lies somewhere until after you might have pressed the wrong button without knowing, then you'll realize that there are dogs in human form.

I could burn this place downAs many times as I'd like in my mind,Without any sympathy For the girl or her motherWho live beneath me

The bastard. How dare he? I was drowning in a fucking river that he was still attempting to save me from, and he was telling me he was going to push me back in and hold me under. My father's death had nearly destroyed me. Cal's death would finish me.

...and when I lift my head to scream out my fury, a million stars turn black and die. No one can see them, but they are my tears.

First, the wind would rumble in the distance like an approaching river, then he would see grass bend, pressed by a great invisible hand. The dull rumble would rise in pitch to a swishing, lashing exultation, causing stalks to lie flat against the ground while the tougher branches of shrubs held themselves up and shrieked their defiance in the gusts. Then the first drops, cold and heavy, would plummet from the sky and burst on the ground.

...But the Mahommedan religion increases, instead of lessening, the fury of intolerance. It was originally propagated by the sword, and ever since, its votaries have been subject, above the people of all other creeds, to this form of madness. In a moment the fruits of patient toil, the prospects of material prosperity, the fear of death itself, are flung aside. The more emotional Pathans are powerless to resist. All rational considerations are forgotten. Seizing their weapons, they become Ghazis

You can be a person with a strong passion or holy anger and be furious in a way that will make the society safer, godly, with social justice and equity.

The best work that anybody ever writes is the work that is on the verge of embarrassing him, always.

Like fear and fury. It is energy from another realm, threads from beneath the sur­face, an immortal place never meant to be disturbed. Raffaele trembles.Something is poisoning the world.

If his men could have seen his young face under his faceplate, or if they could have heard the silent curses rolling off his tongue, they would have realized to their astonishment that their captain, only twenty years of age but already famous and formidable, was crying. Astrias's tears were tears of burning fury. The rage he felt that hour he would never forget for his whole life thereafter.

Look at me!’ I screeched. ‘Look at me, Amadeus von Linden, you sadistic hypocrite, and watch this time! You’re not questioning me now, this isn’t your work, I’m not an enemy agent spewing wireless code! I’m just a minging Scots slag screaming insults at your daughter! So enjoy yourself and watch! Think of Isolde! Think of Isolde and watch!

Instead of courage' management guru Tom Peters recommends fostering 'a level of fury with the status quo such that one cannot not act.

Must I at length the Sword of Justice draw?Oh curst Effects of necessary Law!How ill my Fear they by my Mercy scan,Beware the Fury of a Patient Man.

Such indeed was her image, that neither could Shakespeare describe, nor Hogarth paint, nor Clive act, a fury in higher perfection.

Oh, I'm starting to cry again. That's what happens when you think about life being fair. And I can't explain why it isn't . . . I don't think it's something anybody knows.

My rage is derived from eyes so sharp they see through the idiocy being passed off as sophistication. Under the cloak of universal themes and terms such as freedom, change, and acceptance, madness ensues, being readily welcomed by those whose mind's eye questions nothing.

The whole thing becomes like this evil enchantment from a fairy tale, but you're made to believe the spell can never be broken.

Flames of outrage and reprisal had likewise made a comeback, his nearly forgotten, silent heritage no longer hidden by thirty years of compliance. Instead the fire grew, unmitigated by training, logic or reason.

I understand a fury in your wordsBut not your words.

Anger swirled in him, a tempest readying her strike. And like a helpless vessel caught in her fury, he felt himself dashed against the rocks without mercy.

I can hear the tick tick tick in my head: A tripwire ready to explode in fury. And then, in my mind, I start to count down from ten…any moment now.

Someone engulfed by fury cannot think rationally.

Anger is a consuming thing, a burning takeover. It sets up shop in your heart and head and murders anything else attempting to makes it way in. Life becomes obsessed with it, clouded with it, engrossed in it. You justify feeling with delusions that you're owed retribution. You condone thoughts and vengeful acts, feeding yourself with the idea that it's warranted.But that nourishment comes at a price. It costs you pieces of your soul, your love, your worth. You disregard your beliefs, your consci

Since boyhood, fury had become his father. His older brother. His only protector. Fury gave him strength and courage and spurred him to always move forward despite always getting things wrong and always failing and no mentor there to help him or teach him and everyone always laughing. Anger delivered him from catastrophe. Rage kept him from going under. It had come to be his greatest asset and only strategy.

Some people take offense like it's a limited time offer.

Tisiphone stood silent and helpless in Alicia's mind. It was all she could do to keep Alicia's blind savagery from dragging Megaira under and clouding the lightning-fast reflexes which kept them both alive.She'd never guessed what she was creating, never imagined the monster she'd spawned. She'd seen the power of Alicia DeVries's mind without recognizing the controls which kept that power in check, and only now had she begun to understand fully what she had done.She had shattered those controls.

It isn't often that Aunt Dahlia lets her angry passions rise, but when she does, strong men climb trees and pull them up after them.

You hide it well, but I can see it, Lord Verniers. You hate us. We have beaten you to obedience but it's still there, like dry tinder waiting for a spark.

As he returned to the bed, he could see Vallant eyeing him warily, but he ignored this, sat on the opposite end and braced the pad on his

Loved with obsessive devotion, hated with barely controlled fury.

But even of him I can think of with sorrow, now at this moment.Those times, those people...have gone. How can there be fury felt for things that are gone to dust.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

You can’t imagine the white-hot fury someone who can’t sleep has toward the beautiful dreamer beside him.

A carpet of despair which lay underneath the levels of fury.

Fury reigns down on those who ignore in the wisdom of fear itself.

Abused patience turns to fury.

'Kung Fury!' I mean, Jesus, that thing is amazing.

They tell me, shaking their heads:"You should be kinder. You are somehow furious".I used to be kind. It didn’t last long.

Am I a storm-waster? For it is within the fury of the very storms within which I cower that I find resources for my growth that are entirely absent on calmer days.

... your grasp, even in fury, would have a charm for me...

then things got even stranger.Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand. "What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword-Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on toure

Fury invaded where fear dare not. The thirst for revenge still burned his throat and coated his tongue. The last few days, he'd been a complete ass, visiting violence on his brothers because he could, because they would take it, because, in the end, they were the same. Monsters all.