Anger and Indignation

Incensed with indignation Satan stood

Black it stood as night,

Let none admire

Pandemonium, the high capital

Mammon led them on,

A shout that tore hell’s concave, and beyond

First Moloch, horrid king besmeared with blood

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.

Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale … from hell’s heart I stab at thee.

I shot the sheriff

Our language lacks words to express this offence, the demolition of a man.

A riot is at bottom the language of the unheard.

Someone must have traduced Joseph K., for without having done anything wrong he was arrested one fine morning.

Ira furor brevis est.

Indignor quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.

Achilles’ cursed anger sing, O goddess, that son of Peleus, which started a myriad sufferings for the Achaeans.

But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild

Catholics and Communists have committed great crimes, but at least they have not stood aside, like an established society, and been indifferent. I would rather have blood on my hands than water like Pilate.

Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!

Something lingering, with boiling oil in it, I fancy.

Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock,

What we need is hatred. From it our ideas are born.

Those who in quarrels interpose,

Anger is one of the sinews of the soul.