Best Rage Quotes 2021

Beware of the fury of the patient man.

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.

The rage of the oppressed is never the same as the rage of the privileged.

Abused patience turns to fury.

The fiercest anger of all, the most incurable, Is that which rages in the place of dearest love.

Let the enemy rage at the gate; let him knock, pound, scream, howl; let him do his worst. We know for certain that he cannot enter our soul except by the door of our consent.

He who angers you conquers you.

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.

How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.

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.

Rage is by no means an automatic reaction to misery and suffering as such; no one reacts with rage to an incurable disease or to an earthquake or, for that matter, to social conditions that seem to be unchangeable. Only where there is reason to suspect that conditions could be changed and are not does rage arise.

People who fly into a rage always make a bad landing.

Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame.

When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear.

Oppose not rage while rage is in its force, but give it way a while and let it waste.

If a small thing has the power to make you angry, does that not indicate something about your size?

He that would make his own liberty secure, must guard even his enemy from oppression; for if he violates this duty, he establishes a precedent that will reach to himself.

I do not believe in the God of theology who rewards good and punishes evil. My God created laws that take care of that. His universe is not ruled by wishful thinking, but by immutable laws.

While seeking revenge, dig two graves – one for yourself.

I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me.

He who cannot obey himself will be commanded. That is the nature of living creatures.

The abandoned infant’s cry is rage, not fear.

The entire world would perish, if pity were not to limit anger.

Anger is never without a reason, but seldom with a good one.

He who takes offense when no offense is intended is a fool, and he who takes offense when offense is intended is a greater fool.

Human beings never think for themselves. For the most part, members of our species simply repeat what they are told – and become upset if they are exposed to any different view. The characteristic human trait is not awareness but conformity. We are stubborn, self-destructive conformists. Any other view of our species is just a self-congratulatory delusion.

Show me a man or a woman alone and I’ll show you a saint. Give me two and they’ll fall in love. Give me three and they’ll invent the charming thing we call ‘society’. Give me four and they’ll build a pyramid. Give me five and they’ll make one an outcast. Give me six and they’ll reinvent prejudice. Give me seven and in seven years they’ll reinvent warfare. Man may have been made in the image of God, but human society was made in the image of His opposite number, and is always trying to get back home.

I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

You never see animals going through the absurd and often horrible fooleries of magic and religion. . . . Dogs do not ritually urinate in the hope of persuading heaven to do the same and send down rain. Asses do not bray a liturgy to cloudless skies. Nor do cats attempt, by abstinence from cat’s meat, to wheedle the feline spirits into benevolence. Only man behaves with such gratuitous folly. It is the price he has to pay for being intelligent but not, as yet, quite intelligent enough.

Rage is the opposite of thought, whoever has put you in this frame of mind has more control over you right now, than you have over yourself. If he is your opponent and you will face him today, you will be defeated.

When one is transported by rage, it is best to observe attentively the effects on those who deliver themselves over to the same passion.

Rage is essentially vulgar.

Rage can only with difficulty, and never entirely, be brought under the domination of the intelligence, and therefore is not susceptible to any arguments whatsoever.

Anger makes you smaller, while forgiveness forces you to grow beyond what you were.

A clear sunny day can suddenly shift to thunder and lightning, a raging storm can suddenly give way to a bright moonlit night. The weather may be inconstant, but the sky remains the same. The substance of the human mind should also be like this.

Rage is mental imbecility.

True beauty, the kind that doesn’t fade or wash off, takes time. It takes incredible endurance. It is the slow drip that creates the stalactite, the shaking of the Earth that creates mountains, the constant pounding of the waves that breaks up the rocks and smooths the rough edges. And from the violence, the furor, the raging of the winds, the roaring of the waters, something better emerges, something that would have otherwise never existed.

Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae.

A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage.

What is wrong with inciting intense dislike of a religion if the activities or teachings of that religion are so outrageous, irrational or abusive of human rights that they deserve to be intensely disliked?

Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.

A great deal of intelligence can be invested in ignorance when the need for illusion is deep.

In heaven, all the interesting people are missing.

In the way that scepticism is sometimes applied to issues of public concern, there is a tendency to belittle, to condescend, to ignore the fact that, deluded or not, supporters of superstition and pseudoscience are human beings with real feelings, who, like the sceptics, are trying to figure out how the world works and what our role in it might be. Their motives are in many cases consonant with science. If their culture has not given them all the tools they need to pursue this great quest, let us temper our criticism with kindness. None of us comes fully equipped.

I can see how, given a certain degree of sensitivities, proclivities and rage, I could have ended up differently.

If I were not an atheist, I would believe in a God who would choose to save people on the basis of the totality of their lives and not the pattern of their words. I think he would prefer an honest and righteous atheist to a TV preacher whose every word is God, God, God and whose every deed is foul, foul, foul.

How does one know if she has forgiven? You tend to feel sorrow over the circumstance instead of rage, you tend to feel sorry for the person rather than angry with him. You tend to have nothing left to say about it all.

Their rage supplies them with weapons.

I’ll get to the force field of this hostility, why it’s there, why the rage is in any of us, why the trash takes place, whether or not it’s between me and a couple of hecklers in the audience or between this country and another nation, the rage

Everyone wants to be foremost in this future-and yet death and the stillness of death are the only things certain and common to all in this future! How strange that this sole thing that is certain and common to all, exercises almost no influence on men, and that they are the furthest from regarding themselves as the brotherhood of death! It makes me happy to see that men do not want to think at all of the idea of death!

Of all escape mechanisms, death is the most efficient.

So long as the people do not care to exercise their freedom, those who wish to tyrannize will do so; for tyrants are active and ardent, and will devote themselves in the name of any number of gods, religious and otherwise, to put shackles upon sleeping men.

Rage and frenzy will pull down more in half an hour than prudence, deliberation, and foresight can build up in a hundred years.

The fiend in his own shape is less hideous than when he rages in the breast of men.

So we reach into the raging chaos, and we cling to it, and we tell ourselves it has meaning, and that the world is good, and we are not evil, and we will all go home in the end.

A soft answer breaks the rage, a tough answer encourage the fury.

Old Testament, is really one of the most wickedest books you’ll ever come across. God is an insecure, rage-filled hybrid of Bobby Knight and Suge Knight. He’s got these anger issues that you can’t believe. He’s like John McCain if McCain could fart hail. He’s pro-slavery, he’s pro-polygamy, he’s homophobic, he’ll kill you for masturbating.

A transition from an author’s book to his conversation is too often like an entrance into a large city, after a distant prospect. Remotely, we see nothing but spires of temples and turrets of palaces, and imagine it the residence of splendour, grandeur, and magnificence; but when we have passed the gates, we find it perplexed with narrow passages, disgraced with despicable cottages, embarrassed with obstructions, and clouded with smoke.

Hatred is blind; rage carries you away; and he who pours out vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught.

I’ve learned that I must find positive outlets for anger or it will destroy me. There is a certain anger: it reaches such intensity that to express it fully would require homicidal rage–self destructive, destroy the world rage–and its flame burns because the world is so unjust. I have to try to find a way to channel that anger to the positive, and the highest positive is forgiveness.

From the bottom of my heart, I wanted to give up; I wanted to give up on living. There was no denying that tomorrow would come, and the day after tomorrow, and so next week, too. I never thought it would be this hard, but I would go on living in the midst of a glomy depression, and that made me feel sick to the depths of my soul. In spite of the tempest raging within me, I walked the night path calmly.

The only way I’ve been able to stay informed without letting fury rule my life is to channel my rage into something that ultimately feels like love to me. The place I do that the best is in my writing. That’s where I feel like I can tap into the power of story and maybe bring something good into the world.

The quarrels of friends are the opportunities of foes.

The furies are at home in the mirror; it is their address. Even the clearest water, if deep enough can drown. Never think to surprise them. Your face approaching ever so friendly is the white flag they ignore. There is no truce with the furies. A mirror’s temperature is always zero. It is ice in the veins. It’s camera is an x-ray. It is a chalice held out to you in silent communion, where gaspingly you partake of a shifting identity never your own.

All the unhallowed beauty I have found; All free – discordant shrills and form-defying wonders above ground, like writhen trees with draggled foliage struggling along the courses of wayback creeks; scarlet – and – green sky – streaking parrot – fires with parrot shrieks echo – shattering the shoulders of the hills; and desert – sunset – rage Rage for my mind, be clamant, do not cease you are my holiest habitat of peace.

Happiness is a road seldom traveled by the multitudes. If you find it, please, don’t take it for granted. If you Happen to stray from it, don’t let negative obstacles overcome you. Anger and rage only detour you from your final objectives. The future holds nothing but opportunity, and good things happen to good people I promise

No free people ever existed, or can ever exist, without keeping the purse strings in their own hands. Where this is the case, they have a constitutional check upon the administration, which may thereby by brought into order without violence. But when such a power is not lodged in the people, oppression proceeds uncontrolled in its career, till the governed, transported into rage, seek redress in the midst of blood and confusion.