anger [Theme] Page 3

I got a lump in my throat, and I felt that at any second I would start crying, so I chose anger. It is better than sadness. And pain.

If it were in my will, I'd rather become the son of a female shark, whose hunger matches hurricanes, and a tiger, whose ferocity is generally recognized: I would be less vicious.

We left the garden of the innocent.

When anger goes away at the person with whom you were once associated with a relationship, only peace remains. There is a forgotten tenderness, but with a taste of sadness, because subconsciously you understand that nothing can be returned back, but you try to believe that all is not lost, that there is always a chance to revive former feelings, remembering the legend of the phoenix bird.

January was deaf and blind. Lazy and cruel. The dirty ice on the sidewalks, strewn with sand, looked angrily up at the passers-by. Naked trees along the road bared their teeth, pulled their branches twisted by frost, like beggars on the porch, “give, give, give,” periodically clung to the hair, to the fur coat, as if trying to tear it apart.

You can not leave him alone, anger and the desire for revenge have never advised anything good.

She still wanted to be angry with him. Anger is a great driving force.

I wasn't afraid. I have long been accustomed to suffering and blood. Loneliness is an old friend of mine. Anger is my helper, I used it to get through everything.

It's a strange thing, you have so much poison inside, but despite this poison, or maybe just because of it, you are a very special one for me, a kindred spirit, or something. And I love you. I immediately fell in love with you when you first entered the Kundera cafe and looked with anxious look.

I was never angry, they told me that it was bad, and then suddenly I got mad and felt great.

That evening I went blind because of my pain and did not see it. But she, too, was dying inside.

I want to be angry with you so badly and I probably would have been able to do it, but I can't, and that's why I'm angry with myself. Do you have any idea how unfair this is?

Anger makes you stupid, and because of stupidity you die.

Are you, the angel of meekness, familiar with the secret of anger?
With the poison of burning tears and rage without strength?
A night mute from the graves brought to you
Revenge, that black annoying guest?
Are you, the angel of meekness, familiar with the secret of anger?