Dads. Do you not realize that your child needs to feel your skin on his? Do you not realize the incredible and powerful bond that skin on skin contact with your daughter will give you? Do you not understand the permanent mental connections that are made when you stroke your son’s bare back or rub your daughter’s bare tummy while you tell bedtime stories? And if any idiot says anything about that being inappropriate, you’re gonna get kicked in the face, first by me, and then by every other good dad out there. Touching your child is your duty as a father.

[On Anger][T]he instinct of self-preservation, setting itself against everything that interferes with our pleasures and comfort. What is called temper, with its fruits of anger and strife, has its roots in the physical constitution, and is one among the sins of the flesh.[of the spirit . . .][T]he doing our will rather than His. In relation to our fellow-men it shows itself in envy, hatred, and want of love, cold neglect or harsh judging of others.[of fear . . .]The fear of God need never hinder the faith in Him. And true faith will never hinder the practical work of cleansing.

You don’t get to tell me how you think I’m going to feel or assume what I’m goingto do. If you don’t want to tell me this secret of yours, then by all means, don’t tell me. I will never force you to do something that you don’t want to do, or force you to tell me something that you will probably never be ready for me to know. That’s fine. Everyone has secrets. But don’t try to predict theoutcome because you think I won’t be able to handle whatever it is you’re hiding. I am a grown man, Kristine. I’m sure I can handle it.

When I was extremely young and shockingly stupid, I thought you weren't supposed to ever get angry at anybody you cared about (lest you suspect I'm exaggerating the "shockingly stupid" part, I also thought Mount Rushmore was a natural phenomenon). I honestly believed that people who were truly in love would never dream of having a good, old-fashioned, knock-down, drag-out fight. I guess when you're the type of girl who walks around thinking that the wind just sort of sculpted Teddy Roosevelt into the side of a mountain, the concept of a fairy-tale relationship makes total sense.

We drove on in silence, Dad shaking his head in disgust every few minutes. I stared at him, wondering how it was we got to this place. How the same man who held his infant daughter and kissed her tiny face could one day be so determined to shut her out of his life, out of his heart. How, even when she reacyhed out to him in distress - Please, Dad, come get me, come save me - all he could do was accuse her. How that same daughter could look at him and feel nothing but contempt and blame and resentment, because that's all that radiated off of him for so many years and it had become contagious.

If we could only get rid of consciousness. What makes mankind tragic is not that they are the victims of nature, it is that they are conscious of it. To be part of the animal kingdom under the conditions of this earth is very well--but as soon as you know of your slavery, the pain, the anger, the strife--the tragedy begins. We can't return to nature, since we can't change our place in it. Our refuge is in stupidity [...] There is no morality, no knowledge, and no hope; there is only the consciousness of ourselves which drives us about a world that [...] is always but a vain and floating appearance.

Anger is just anger. It isn't good. It isn't bad. It just is. What you do with it is what matters. It's like anything else. You can use it to build or to destroy. You just have to make the choice."Constructive anger," the demon said, her voice dripping sarcasm. Also known as passion," I said quietly. "Passion has overthrown tyrants and freed prisoners and slaves. Passion has brought justice where there was savagery. Passion has created freedom where there was nothing but fear. Passion has helped souls rise from the ashes of their horrible lives and build something better, stronger, more beautiful.

Hasira ni Shetani. Hekima ni Mungu. Kila kitu kimo ndani yetu. Hasira imo ndani yetu. Hekima imo ndani yetu. Atomu ni matofali ya ujenzi wa kila kitu ulimwenguni likiwemo jua na miili ya wanadamu. Ndani ya atomu kuna nguvu ya chanya na kuna nguvu ya hasi. Kama miili yetu imetengenezwa na atomu na katika kila atomu kuna nguvu ya chanya na kuna nguvu ya hasi, hivyo basi, tuna uwezo mkubwa wa kufanya mambo mazuri na tuna uwezo mkubwa wa kufanya mambo mabaya. Mtu akikutukana mwambie asante. Akikupiga mwambie asante. Akiendelea kukupiga, pigana. Geuza hasira yako kuwa hekima kwa faida yako na kwa faida ya wengine.

You know," Cecily said, "you really didn't have to throw that man through the window.""He wasn't a man," Gabriel said, scowling. "He was an Unseelie Court faerie. One of the nasty ones.""Is that why you chased him down the street?""He had no business showing images like that to a lady," Gabriel muttered, though it had to be admitted that the lady in question had hardly turned a hair, and seemed more annoyed with Gabriel for his reaction than impressed by his chivalry."And I do think it was excessive to hurl him into the canal.""He'll float."The corners of Cecily's mouth twitched. "It was very wrong.

Take off your damned wrapper! The old buffer ordered, looking intensely at her lower part. Comfort was on her knees, rubbing the old man's dirty feet. All her plea and tears continually worsen the whole matter. I want to do you harder cos you gonna be fucked by other folks who needs a large hole, said the man, moving towards her. Comfort struggled with all her feminine might, but the old masculine but old man ripped her wrapper and slapped her on the face. Lie here, Lie here! I'm gonna do what your old man did to your mama and its gonna sweet you. She screamed as the man's organ prick her glory hole like a sharp needle.

No, I'm serious," Frankie insisted, fed up with being silenced. "Why didn't you just make me a normie?"Viktor sighed. "Because that's not who we are. We're special. And I'm very proud that. You should be, too.""Proud?" Frankie spat out the word as if it had been soaked in nail polish remover. "How can I be proud when everyone is telling me to hide?""I'm telling you to hide so you'll be safe. But you can still feel proud of who you are," he explained, like it really was that simple. "Pride has to come from within you and stay with you, no matter what people say."Huh?Frankie crossed her arms and looked away.

لايقيم الناس وزنا ، عادة ، إلا للذكاء العدواني ، الذكاء الممتشق أدوات الاقتحام ، أدوات الإعلان الصاخب عن نفسه

Όταν θυμώνουμε με τους άλλους, θυμώνουμε με μια πλευρά του εαυτού μας. Με αυτό που δεν θέλουμε να είμαστε. (Γιάντες)

The ManAlive program teaches how the “angry man” is more often a response to experiencing a threat to their “image,” which triggers a fight or flight response. When the sympathetic nervous system gets triggered – breathing is more rapid, heart rate increases, blood pressure goes up – men call this stimulated response “anger.” In fact, anger is more often a response to injustice. What these men are experiencing is not anger but an arousal state. This is key information for men to have because, as they learn to interrupt this hyperarousal, they have more oppor-tunity to connect with what they may actually be feeling.

If a man, having lashed two hulls together, is crossing a river, and an empty boat happens along and bumps into him, no matter how hot-tempered the man may be, he will not get angry. But if there should be someone in the other boat, then he will shout out to haul this way or veer that. If his first shout is unheeded, he will shout again, and if that is not heard, he will shout a third time, this time with a torrent of curses following. In the first instance, he wasn't angry; now in the second he is. Earlier he faced emptiness, now he faces occupancy. If a man could succeed in making himself empty, and in that way wander through the world, then who could do him harm?