Yield to that strange passion which sends you madly whirling round the room.
You don't go to a comedy and try to laugh. You laugh in spite of yourself. You don't just come on stage and cry. Something has pushed you to cry.
You want to see an angry person? Let me hear a cell phone go off.
I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy
Music, the knife without a hilt.
Anger is a fuel. You need fuel to launch a rocket. But if all you have is fuel without any complex internal mechanism directing it, you don't have a rocket. You have a bomb
Writings scatter to the winds blank checks in an insane charge. And were they not such flying leaves, there would be no purloined letters.
The one who cannot restrain their anger will wish undone, what their temper and irritation prompted them to do.
The danger with hatred is, once you start in on it, you get a hundred times more than you bargained for. Once you start, you can't stop.
It was as hysterical as a woman having a hot flash.
I have been known to have four-letter words fly out of my mouth when I'm upset.
With any other celebrity, people come up and say, 'Hey, I really like your work.' But with my fans, when they see me, they don't even say hello. They just go, 'AWWWWWGHGHHHGHGHRRR!'
A man in a passion, rides a mad horse.
Sometimes people say to me that I celebrate over the top, but when you score, the emotion... you just can't control it. It's the same with owning a horse that wins.
But love is much like a dam; if you allow a tiny crack to form through which only a trickle of water can pass, that trickle will quickly bring down the whole structure and soon no one will be able to control the force of the current.
When one kicks over a tea table and smashes everything but the sugar bowl, one may as well pick that up and drop it on the bricks, don't you think?
Passion is destructive; if it does not destroy, it dies.
When anger comes, there is no way of satisfying its demands
Sometimes with anger you can be much more dangerous than with skill.
I think with the best actors, emotion is something that has no kind of check in them.
The writer trusts nothing she writes-it should be too reckless and alive for that, it should be beautiful and menacing and slightly out of control. . . . Good writing . . . explodes in the reader's face. Whenever the writer writes, it's always three or four or five o'clock in the morning in her head.
Passion is no respecter of persons. She hardly seems to select her victims.
Rage and frenzy will pull down more in half an hour than prudence, deliberation, and foresight can build up in a hundred years.
We were walking through Petco Park after a signing, and this girl plowed through security and grabbed onto my neck and started pulling. Her grip was so impressively strong that this huge security guard was struggling to get her off of me. I was like, 'Whoa. That's kind of crazy.'
My vocal cords lived their own life, wild and free.
