— I'm angry.
— It's OK, John. There's nothing unusual in that. That's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise, firing guns at half past one in the morning...
— Yeah.
— Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine, keeping bodies where there's food.
— Yes.
— And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings-on!
— Listen, I'm not actually that angry, OK?
I don't get angry. I tend to internalise. I can't express anger. That's one of the problems I have. I grow a tumour instead.
You, honest to God, get me so angry I'm afraid I might hurt myself.
Let me explain something to you, Dave. There are two kinds of angry people in this world: explosive and implosive. Explosive is the kind of individual you see screaming at the cashier for not taking their coupons. Implosive is the cashier who remains quiet day after day and finally shoots everyone in the store. You're the cashier.
Ugly live upon the inside. Ugly be a hurtful mean person... Ever morning, until you dead in the ground, you gone have to make this decision... You gone have to ask yourself, Am I gone believe what them fools say about me today?... With Constantine's thumb pressed in my hand, I realized I actually had a choice in what I could believe.
Similar Quote:
For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind.
— Okay. Don't get mad, okay?
— Okay, don't give me a reason to get mad, okay?