Anger

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

Page 320 of 447 · 20 per page

• From Jesus and His Jewish Influences (2015)

  69Lecture 11—Jesus’s Jewish LineageJesus and His Jewish Influences Alexander Jannaeus’s disregard for Jewish law—because another biblical law prohibits high priests from marrying widows. ●● Jannaeus was cruel and arrogant, and his reign aroused enormous opposition. In about 90 B.C., during Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles, which was one of the pilgrimage holidays to the Temple of Jerusalem, Alexander Jannaeus deliberately went against prescribed ritual by pouring holy water on the ground instead of on the altar. ●● Some years after, an open rebellion broke out against Alexander Jannaeus. During the course of this civil war, Jannaeus’s opponents called on the Seleucid king Demetrius III for help. Demetrius III invaded and defeated Alexander Jannaeus in a battle—at which point, however, the Jewish rebels apparently had second thoughts and decided that they preferred a bad Hasmonean king to a Seleucid. The “Seekers of Smooth Things” ●● The civil war against Alexander Jannaeus seems to be echoed in one of the Dead Sea Scrolls, called the Pesher Nahum, or the Commentary on Nahum. This genre of literature, pesher , is a commentary on a biblical book. Typically in these works, the author cites and interprets the relevant passage in a biblical book. ●● The Pesher Nahum reads, “This concerns Demetrius King of Greece, who sought on the counsel of those who seek smooth things to enter Jerusalem. But God did not permit the city to be delivered into the hands of the kings of Greece from the time of Antiochus until the coming out of the rulers of the Kittim.” The passage goes on: “Interpreted, this concerns the furious young lion who executes revenge on those who seek smooth things.” ●● The expression “seekers of smooth things” is an example of a derogatory pun. The “seekers of smooth things” in Hebrew is dorshei hachalakot. The pun is dorshei hahalachot , which

• From Real Life (2020)

  Il est beaucoup plus petit qu’Yngve, avec un corps compact, musclé et les traits d’un personnage de BD – des grands yeux, un visage large. Yngve recule d’un pas. Lukas avance d’un pas. C’est une danse. Nathan remonte ses lunettes sur son nez. Il observe les deux garçons au bout de la table, qui se balancent et pivotent tour à tour. Le vin s’agite, fait glou glou dans la bouteille. Il y a une autre bouteille de vin sur la table. Enid la surveille de près. On voit à son cou qu’elle est tendue. Zoe croise les bras sur la table pour prendre appui. Ses épaules sont secouées par un rire. Les yeux de Miller s’arrêtent sur son dos juste au moment où elle regarde par-dessus son épaule. Leurs regards se croisent. Et Wallace le sent, il se produit ce resserrement entre deux personnes prises d’attraction mutuelle. Yngve passe un bras autour de Lukas, le prend par la taille et le soulève. « Désolé, nabot. Faut être grand comme ça pour boire du vin. — Yngve », fait Lukas, mais il ne peut pas s’en empêcher. Il rougit. « On est quoi, des enfants ? », demande Enid. Elle lève la bouteille de la table et la repose bruyamment. Elle ne se casse pas. « Prends celle-là. » Yngve repose Lukas. Lukas lui prend la bouteille des mains. Son humeur défiante l’a quitté. Il va se rasseoir, essoufflé. Nathan baisse les yeux avec la même délicatesse un peu guindée avec laquelle il plierait sa serviette sur ses genoux. Wallace sent l’odeur sucrée, sombre, du vin. Cole rit nerveusement. Ils rient tout le temps. Voilà, se dit Wallace. C’est comme ça qu’ils s’en sortent. Silence et rires, silence et rires, alternativement. Cette façon de traverser la vie en planant, sans avoir jamais besoin de réfléchir vraiment à quoi que ce soit. Il éprouve encore la piqûre de la gêne, mais elle a diminué. Le regard de Vincent effleure le sien. Wallace se remet à manger. La saveur fade, diluée, insipide de la cuisine des Blancs, ses textures bizarres, sa laideur. Il mange. Il serre les dents. Sa colère est froide. Une membrane l’enveloppe. Roman et Vincent échangent un regard. Cole les observe. Ils se regardent tous. Wallace pense à Peter. À sa mère. À son père. À Henrik. À Dana. « Vous avez fait un tennis, aujourd’hui ? » demande Vincent. La banalité de la question retire la peau de la colère de Wallace. « C’était super, dit Cole. — On a eu une longue discussion. Ça faisait longtemps qu’on n’avait pas parlé comme ça, c’était chouette. — Ah oui, j’imagine, fait Vincent. — Au fait, quand tu étais sur l’appli, hier soir, Vincent, tu regardais juste comme ça, ou tu comptais vraiment coucher avec quelqu’un d’autre ? », demande Wallace en souriant de toutes ses dents.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  But, granted I were indeed magnanimous, thou art none of those towards whom magnanimity should be shown; the issue of punishment, as likewise of vengeance, in the case of wild beasts such as thou art, behoveth to be death, whereas for human beings that should suffice whereof thou speakest. Wherefore, albeit I am no eagle, knowing thee to be no dove, but a venomous serpent, I mean to pursue thee, as an immemorial enemy, with every hate and all my might, albeit this that I do to thee can scarce properly be styled vengeance, but rather chastisement, inasmuch as vengeance should overpass the offence and this will not attain thereto; for that, an I sought to avenge myself, considering to what a pass thou broughtest my soul, thy life, should I take it from thee, would not suffice me, no, nor the lives of an hundred others such as thou, since, slaying thee, I should but slay a vile, wicked and worthless trull of a woman. And what a devil more account (setting aside this thy scantling of fair favour,[388] which a few years will mar, filling it with wrinkles,) art thou than whatsoever other sorry serving-drab? Whereas it was no fault of thine that thou failedst of causing the death of a man of honour, as thou styledst me but now, whose life may yet in one day be of more service to the world than an hundred thousand of thy like could be what while the world endureth. I will teach thee, then, by means of this annoy that thou sufferest, what it is to flout men of sense, and particularly scholars, and will give thee cause never more, an thou comest off alive, to fall into such a folly. But, an thou have so great a wish to descend, why dost thou not cast thyself down? On this wise, with God's help, thou wilt, by breaking thy neck, at once deliver thyself from the torment, wherein it seemeth to thee thou art, and make me the joyfullest man in the world. Now, I have no more to say to thee. I knew to contrive on such wise that I caused thee go up thither; do thou now contrive to come down thence, even as thou knewest to befool me.'

• From Becoming Myself: A Psychiatrist's Memoir (2017)

  CHAPTER EIGHT A BRIEF HISTORY OF ANGER M y patient Brenda came to her session today with an agenda. Without even glancing at me, she entered my office, took her seat, opened her purse to remove her notes, and commenced to read aloud a prepared statement listing complaints about my behavior during our previous meeting. “You said I was doing a poor job in our sessions and that your other patients came better prepared to talk about issues. And you implied you much preferred to work with your other patients. And you scolded me for not bringing in dreams or daydreams. And you sided with my last therapist and said that my refusal to open up had been responsible for the failure of all my previous therapies.” During the previous hour, Brenda had sat silently, as she often did, and volunteered nothing, forcing me to work much too hard: I felt as if I were trying to pry open an oyster. This time, as she read her list of accusations, I became increasingly defensive. Dealing with anger is not my strong suit. My reflex inclination was to point out her distortions, but I held my tongue for a number of reasons. For one thing, this was a propitious start to a session—a hell of a lot better than last week! She was opening up, unharnessing the sorts of thoughts and feelings that had kept her so tightly bound. Moreover, even though she had distorted my words, I knew I had, indeed, thought some of the things she accused me of saying, and most likely these thoughts had colored my words in ways I had not recognized. “Brenda, I entirely understood your annoyance: I think you’re misquoting me a bit but you’re right on: I did feel frustrated and somewhat baffled last week.” I then asked, “If we have a similar session in the future what do you advise? What is the best question I could pose?” “Why don’t you just ask me what happened during the last week that made me feel bad?” she replied. I followed her suggestion and posed the question: “What happened to make you feel bad this last week?” It led to a productive discussion of disappointments and slights she had experienced the past few days. Toward the end of the hour, I circled back to the beginning and inquired how it felt for her to have been so angry with me. She wept as she expressed gratitude for my taking her seriously, for assuming responsibility for my role in it, and for hanging in there with her. I think we both felt we had entered a new phase of therapy. The session left me thinking about anger as I rode my bike over the creek toward my home.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Bruno and Buffalmacco, hearing all this, made believe to marvel exceedingly and often confirmed that which Calandrino said, albeit they had the while so great a mind to laugh that they were like to burst; but, seeing him start up in a rage to beat his wife again, they rose upon him and withheld him, avouching that the lady was nowise at fault, but that he had only himself to blame for that which had happened, since he knew that women caused things to lose their virtue and had not bidden her beware of appearing before him that day, and that God had bereft him of foresight to provide against this, either for that the adventure was not to be his or because he had had it in mind to cozen his comrades, to whom he should have discovered the matter, as soon as he perceived that he had found the stone. Brief, after many words, they made peace, not without much ado, between him and the woebegone lady and went their ways, leaving him disconsolate, with the house full of stones." THE FOURTH STORY [Day the Eighth] THE RECTOR OF FIESOLE LOVETH A WIDOW LADY, BUT IS NOT LOVED BY HER AND THINKING TO LIE WITH HER, LIETH WITH A SERVING-WENCH OF HERS, WHILST THE LADY'S BROTHERS CAUSE THE BISHOP FIND HIM IN THIS CASE Elisa being come to the end of her story, which she had related to the no small pleasure of all the company, the queen turned to Emilia, and signified to her her wish that she should follow after with her story, whereupon she promptly began thus: "I have not forgotten, noble ladies, that it hath already been shown, in sundry of the foregoing stories, how much we women are exposed to the importunities of the priests and friars and clergy of every kind; but, seeing that so much cannot be said thereof but that yet more will remain to say, I purpose, to boot, to tell you a story of a rector, who, maugre all the world, would e'en have a gentlewoman wish him well,[377] whether she would or not; whereupon she, like a very discreet woman as she was, used him as he deserved. [Footnote 377: _i.e._ love him, grant him her favours. See ante, passim.]

• From Jesus and His Jewish Influences (2015)

  158 Lecture 24—Jesus’s Teachings and Sayings in ContextJesus and His Jewish Influences the Lord. Each one who is registered from 20 years old and upward shall give the Lord’s offering.” ●● In a related episode, recorded in Matthew 21:12, “Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the moneychangers.” Modern readers of this passage understand it to mean that Jesus was opposed to commercial activity in the area of the Temple of Jerusalem. However, this is an incorrect and anachronistic understanding of the text. ●● In the Matthew passage, the word temple refers to the entire Temple Mount, which was a center of commercial activity. It is anachronistic to interpret Jesus’s action as opposition to commercial activity on the Temple Mount—this was, in fact, a characteristic feature of all ancient temple complexes. ●● The nature of Jesus’s objection has to do with the nature of the temple tax and why there were moneychangers actually on top of the Temple Mount. The reason is that the Temple Mount, in addition to being an area of commercial activity, was a place where Jewish pilgrims congregated for the holidays and paid the temple tax. ●● Originally, the temple tax as mandated in Exodus was a one- time payment, but under the Hasmoneans, it became an annual tax. Making this an annual tax aroused a great deal of opposition among the Jewish population. ●● What’s more, the temple tax had to be paid in a certain kind of currency—specifically, in Tyrian tetradrachms, or silver shekels, which contained a high content of silver. Therefore, pilgrims coming to the temple would have to exchange currency to pay the temple tax with this valuable coin. ●● What motivated Jesus here was not just an opposition to the annual payment of the temple tax but the fact that this tax had to

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Therewithal, Calandrino enforcing himself,[376] answered, 'Comrades, be not angered; the case standeth otherwise than as you deem. I (unlucky wretch that I am!) had found the stone in question, and you shall hear if I tell truth. When first you questioned one another of me, I was less than half a score yards distant from you; but, seeing that you made off and saw me not, I went on before you and came back hither, still keeping a little in front of you.' Then, beginning from the beginning, he recounted to them all that they had said and done, first and last, and showed them how the stones had served his back and shins; after which, 'And I may tell you,' continued he, 'that, whenas I entered in at the gate, with all these stones about me which you see here, there was nothing said to me, albeit you know how vexatious and tiresome these gatekeepers use to be in wanting to see everything; more by token that I met by the way several of my friends and gossips, who are still wont to accost me and invite me to drink; but none of them said a word to me, no, nor half a word, as those who saw me not. At last, being come home hither, this accursed devil of a woman presented herself before me, for that, as you know, women cause everything lose its virtue, wherefore I, who might else have called myself the luckiest man in Florence, am become the most unlucky. For this I have beaten her as long as I could wag my fists and I know not what hindereth me from slitting her weasand, accursed be the hour when first I saw her and when she came to me in this house.' Then, flaming out into fresh anger, he offered to rise and beat her anew. [Footnote 376: _Sforzandosi_, _i.e._ recovering his wind with an effort.]

• From Another Country (1962)

  He relaxed, not wanting to seem to struggle with her. Now she was being Joan Fontaine. “Please, you must believe me, Rufus!” “I believe you,” he said, and rose; to find a heavy Irishman standing in his way. They stared at each other for a moment and then the man spit in his face. He heard Jane scream, but he was already far away. He struck, or thought he struck; a fist slammed into his face and something hit him at the back of the head. The world, the air, went red and black, then roared in at him with faces and fists. The small of his back slammed against something cold, hard, and straight; he supposed it was the end of the bar, and he wondered how he had got there. From far away, he saw a barstool poised above Vivaldo’s head, and he heard Jane screaming, keening like all of Ireland. He had not known there were so many men in the bar. He struck a face, he felt bone beneath the bone of his fist, and weak green eyes, glaring into his like headlights at the moment of collision, shuttered in distress. Someone had reached him in the belly, someone else in the head. He was being spun about and he could no longer strike, he could only defend. He kept his head down, bobbing and shifting, pushed and pulled, and he crouched, trying to protect his private parts. He heard the crash of glass. For an instant he saw Vivaldo, at the far end of the bar, blood streaming down from his nose and his forehead, surrounded by three or four men, and he saw the back of a hand send Jane spinning half across the room. Her face was white and terrified. Good, he thought, and felt himself in the air, going over the bar. Glass crashed again, and wood was splintered. There was a foot on his shoulder and a foot on one ankle. He pressed his buttocks against the floor and drew his free leg in as far as he could; and with one arm he tried to hold back the fist which crashed down again and again into his face. Far behind the fist was the face of the Irishman, with the green eyes ablaze. Then he saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing. Then he heard running feet. He was on his back behind the bar. There was no one near him. He pulled himself up and half-crawled out. The bartender was at the door, shooing his customers out; an old woman sat at the bar, tranquilly sipping gin; Vivaldo lay on his face in a pool of blood. Jane stood helplessly over him. And the sound of the rain came back. “I think he’s dead,” Jane said. He looked at her, hating her with all his heart. He said, “I wish to God it was you, you cunt.” She began to cry.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  After this the Jews had no opportunity for any further independent persecution of the Christians. Yet they continued to circulate horrible calumnies on Jesus and his followers. Their learned schools at Tiberias and Babylon nourished this bitter hostility. The Talmud, i.e. Doctrine, of which the first part (the Mishna, i.e. Repetition) was composed towards the end of the second century, and the second part (the Gemara, i.e. Completion) in the fourth century, well represents the Judaism of its day, stiff, traditional, stagnant, and anti-Christian. Subsequently the Jerusalem Talmud was eclipsed by the Babylonian (430–521), which is four times larger, and a still more distinct expression of Rabbinism. The terrible imprecation on apostates (pratio haereticorum), designed to deter Jews from going over to the Christian faith, comes from the second century, and is stated by the Talmud to have been composed at Jafna, where the Sanhedrin at that time had its seat, by the younger Rabbi Gamaliel. The Talmud is the slow growth of several centuries. It is a chaos of Jewish learning, wisdom, and folly, a continent of rubbish, with hidden pearls of true maxims and poetic parables. Delitzsch calls it "a vast debating club, in which there hum confusedly the myriad voices of at least five centuries, a unique code of laws, in comparison with which the law-books of all other nations are but lilliputian." It is the Old Testament misinterpreted and turned against the New, in fact, though not in form. It is a rabbinical Bible without inspiration, without the Messiah, without hope. It shares the tenacity of the Jewish race, and, like it, continues involuntarily to bear testimony to the truth of Christianity. A distinguished historian, on being asked what is the best argument for Christianity, promptly replied: the Jews.21 Unfortunately this people, still remarkable even in its tragical end, was in many ways cruelly oppressed and persecuted by the Christians after Constantine, and thereby only confirmed in its fanatical hatred of them. The hostile legislation began with the prohibition of the circumcision of Christian slaves, and the intermarriage between Jews and Christians, and proceeded already in the fifth century to the exclusion of the Jews from all civil and political rights in Christian states. Even our enlightened age has witnessed the humiliating spectacle of a cruel Judenhetze in Germany and still more in Russia (1881). But through all changes of fortune God has preserved this ancient race as a living monument of his justice and his mercy; and he will undoubtedly assign it an important part in the consummation of his kingdom at the second coming of Christ. § 15. Causes of Roman Persecution. The policy of the Roman government, the fanaticism of the superstitious people, and the self-interest of the pagan priests conspired for the persecution of a religion which threatened to demolish the tottering fabric of idolatry; and they left no expedients of legislation, of violence, of craft, and of wickedness untried, to blot it from the earth.

• From Another Country (1962)

  “I believe you,” he said, and rose; to find a heavy Irishman standing in his way. They stared at each other for a moment and then the man spit in his face. He heard Jane scream, but he was already far away. He struck, or thought he struck; a fist slammed into his face and something hit him at the back of the head. The world, the air, went red and black, then roared in at him with faces and fists. The small of his back slammed against something cold, hard, and straight; he supposed it was the end of the bar, and he wondered how he had got there. From far away, he saw a barstool poised above Vivaldo’s head, and he heard Jane screaming, keening like all of Ireland. He had not known there were so many men in the bar. He struck a face, he felt bone beneath the bone of his fist, and weak green eyes, glaring into his like headlights at the moment of collision, shuttered in distress. Someone had reached him in the belly, someone else in the head. He was being spun about and he could no longer strike, he could only defend. He kept his head down, bobbing and shifting, pushed and pulled, and he crouched, trying to protect his private parts. He heard the crash of glass. For an instant he saw Vivaldo, at the far end of the bar, blood streaming down from his nose and his forehead, surrounded by three or four men, and he saw the back of a hand send Jane spinning half across the room. Her face was white and terrified. Good, he thought, and felt himself in the air, going over the bar. Glass crashed again, and wood was splintered. There was a foot on his shoulder and a foot on one ankle. He pressed his buttocks against the floor and drew his free leg in as far as he could; and with one arm he tried to hold back the fist which crashed down again and again into his face. Far behind the fist was the face of the Irishman, with the green eyes ablaze. Then he saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing. Then he heard running feet. He was on his back behind the bar. There was no one near him. He pulled himself up and half-crawled out. The bartender was at the door, shooing his customers out; an old woman sat at the bar, tranquilly sipping gin; Vivaldo lay on his face in a pool of blood. Jane stood helplessly over him. And the sound of the rain came back. “I think he’s dead,” Jane said. He looked at her, hating her with all his heart. He said, “I wish to God it was you, you cunt.” She began to cry. He leaned down and helped Vivaldo to rise. Half-leaning on, half-supporting each other, they made it to the door. Jane came behind them. “Let me help you.”

• From Little Women (1868)

  "Yes, Miss, but I don't believe he's seeable just yet." "Why not? Is he ill?" "La, no Miss, but he's had a scene with Mr. Laurie, who is in one of his tantrums about something, which vexes the old gentleman, so I dursn't go nigh him." "Where is Laurie?" "Shut up in his room, and he won't answer, though I've been a-tapping. I don't know what's to become of the dinner, for it's ready, and there's no one to eat it." "I'll go and see what the matter is. I'm not afraid of either of them." Up went Jo, and knocked smartly on the door of Laurie's little study. "Stop that, or I'll open the door and make you!" called out the young gentleman in a threatening tone. Jo immediately knocked again. The door flew open, and in she bounced before Laurie could recover from his surprise. Seeing that he really was out of temper, Jo, who knew how to manage him, assumed a contrite expression, and going artistically down upon her knees, said meekly, "Please forgive me for being so cross. I came to make it up, and can't go away till I have." "It's all right. Get up, and don't be a goose, Jo," was the cavalier reply to her petition. "Thank you, I will. Could I ask what's the matter? You don't look exactly easy in your mind." "I've been shaken, and I won't bear it!" growled Laurie indignantly. "Who did it?" demanded Jo. "Grandfather. If it had been anyone else I'd have..." And the injured youth finished his sentence by an energetic gesture of the right arm. "That's nothing. I often shake you, and you don't mind," said Jo soothingly. "Pooh! You're a girl, and it's fun, but I'll allow no man to shake me!" "I don't think anyone would care to try it, if you looked as much like a thundercloud as you do now. Why were you treated so?" "Just because I wouldn't say what your mother wanted me for. I'd promised not to tell, and of course I wasn't going to break my word." "Couldn't you satisfy your grandpa in any other way?" "No, he would have the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I'd have told my part of the scrape, if I could without bringing Meg in. As I couldn't, I held my tongue, and bore the scolding till the old gentleman collared me. Then I bolted, for fear I should forget myself." "It wasn't nice, but he's sorry, I know, so go down and make up. I'll help you." "Hanged if I do! I'm not going to be lectured and pummelled by everyone, just for a bit of a frolic. I was sorry about Meg, and begged pardon like a man, but I won't do it again, when I wasn't in the wrong." "He didn't know that." "He ought to trust me, and not act as if I was a baby.

• From Little Women (1868)

  The set in which they found themselves was composed of English, and Amy was compelled to walk decorously through a cotillion, feeling all the while as if she could dance the tarantella with relish. Laurie resigned her to the 'nice little boy', and went to do his duty to Flo, without securing Amy for the joys to come, which reprehensible want of forethought was properly punished, for she immediately engaged herself till supper, meaning to relent if he then gave any signs penitence. She showed him her ball book with demure satisfaction when he strolled instead of rushed up to claim her for the next, a glorious polka redowa. But his polite regrets didn't impose upon her, and when she galloped away with the Count, she saw Laurie sit down by her aunt with an actual expression of relief. That was unpardonable, and Amy took no more notice of him for a long while, except a word now and then when she came to her chaperon between the dances for a necessary pin or a moment's rest. Her anger had a good effect, however, for she hid it under a smiling face, and seemed unusually blithe and brilliant. Laurie's eyes followed her with pleasure, for she neither romped nor sauntered, but danced with spirit and grace, making the delightsome pastime what it should be. He very naturally fell to studying her from this new point of view, and before the evening was half over, had decided that 'little Amy was going to make a very charming woman'. It was a lively scene, for soon the spirit of the social season took possession of everyone, and Christmas merriment made all faces shine, hearts happy, and heels light. The musicians fiddled, tooted, and banged as if they enjoyed it, everybody danced who could, and those who couldn't admired their neighbors with uncommon warmth. The air was dark with Davises, and many Joneses gamboled like a flock of young giraffes. The golden secretary darted through the room like a meteor with a dashing French-woman who carpeted the floor with her pink satin train. The serene Teuton found the supper-table and was happy, eating steadily through the bill of fare, and dismayed the garcons by the ravages he committed. But the Emperor's friend covered himself with glory, for he danced everything, whether he knew it or not, and introduced impromptu pirouettes when the figures bewildered him. The boyish abandon of that stout man was charming to behold, for though he 'carried weight', he danced like an India-rubber ball. He ran, he flew, he pranced, his face glowed, his bald head shown, his coattails waved wildly, his pumps actually twinkled in the air, and when the music stopped, he wiped the drops from his brow, and beamed upon his fellow men like a French Pickwick without glasses.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Pyrrhus, accordingly, began to await what the lady should do, and Nicostratus having, a few days after, made, as he oftentimes used to do, a great dinner to certain gentlemen, Madam Lydia, whenas the tables were cleared away, came forth of her chamber, clad in green samite and richly bedecked, and entered the saloon where the guests were. There, in the sight of Pyrrhus and of all the rest, she went up to the perch, whereon was the hawk that Nicostratus held so dear, and cast it loose, as she would set it on her hand; then, taking it by the jesses, she dashed it against the wall and killed it; whereupon Nicostratus cried out at her, saying, 'Alack, wife, what hast thou done?' She answered him nothing, but, turning to the gentlemen who had eaten with him, she said to them, 'Gentlemen, I should ill know how to avenge myself on a king who did me a despite, an I dared not take my wreak of a hawk. You must know that this bird hath long robbed me of all the time which should of men be accorded to the pleasuring of the ladies; for that no sooner is the day risen than Nicostratus is up and drest and away he goeth a-horseback, with his hawk on his fist, to the open plains, to see him fly, whilst I, such as you see me, abide in bed alone and ill-content; wherefore I have many a time had a mind to do that which I have now done, nor hath aught hindered me therefrom but that I waited to do it in the presence of gentlemen who would be just judges in my quarrel, as methinketh you will be.' The gentlemen, hearing this and believing her affection for Nicostratus to be no otherwise than as her words denoted, turned all to the latter, who was angered, and said, laughing, 'Ecod, how well hath the lady done to avenge herself of her wrong by the death of the hawk!' Then, with divers of pleasantries upon the subject (the lady being now gone back to her chamber), they turned Nicostratus his annoy into laughter; whilst Pyrrhus, seeing all this, said in himself, 'The lady hath given a noble beginning to my happy loves; God grant she persevere!'

• From Another Country (1962)

  I simply am not terribly attracted to any of those literary colonies you want us to become a part of—–” Richard’s eyes turned as dark as deep water. “Cass doesn’t like writers,” he said, lightly, to Eric, “not if they make a living at it, anyway. She thinks writers should never cease starving and whoring around, like our good friend, Vivaldo. That’s fine, boy, that’s really being responsible and artistic. But all the rest of us, trying to love a woman and raise a family and make some loot—we’re whores.” She was very pale. “I have never said anything at all like that.” “No? There are lots of ways of saying”—he mimicked her—“things like that. You’ve said it a thousand times. You must think I’m dumb, chicken.” He turned again to Eric, who stood near the window, wishing he could fly out of it. “If she was stuck with a guy like Vivaldo—” “Leave Vivaldo out of this! What has he got to do with it?” Richard gave a surprisingly merry laugh, and repeated, “If she was stuck with a guy like that, maybe you wouldn’t hear some pissing and moaning! Oh, what a martyrdom! And how she’d love it!” He took a swallow of his drink and crossed the room toward her. “And you know why? You want to know why?” There was a silence. She lifted her enormous eyes to meet his. “Because you’re just like all the other American cunts. You want a guy you can feel sorry for, you love him as long as he’s helpless. Then you can pitch in, as you love to say, you can be his helper. Helper!” He threw back his head and laughed. “Then, one fine day, the guy feels chilly between his legs and feels around for his cock and balls and finds she’s helped herself to them and locked them in the linen closet.” He finished his drink and, roughly, caught his breath. His voice changed, becoming almost tender with sorrow. “That’s the way it is, isn’t it, sugar? You don’t like me now as well as you did once.” She looked terribly weary; her skin seemed to have loosened. She put one hand lightly on his arm. “No,” she said, “that’s not the way it is.” Then a kind of fury shook her and tears came to her eyes. “You haven’t any right to say such things to me; you’re blaming me for something I haven’t anything to do with at all!” He reached out to touch her shoulder; she moved away. “You’d better go, Eric, this can’t be much fun for you.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Tofano was nowise moved by these words from his besotted intent; wherefore quoth she to him, 'Harkye now, I can no longer brook this thy fashery, God pardon it thee! Look thou cause lay up[350] this distaff of mine that I leave here.' So saying, the night being so dark that one might scarce see other by the way, she went up to the well and taking a great stone that lay thereby, cried out, 'God pardon me!' and let it drop into the water. The stone, striking the water, made a very great noise, which when Tofano heard, he verily believed that she had cast herself in; wherefore, snatching up the bucket and the rope, he rushed out of the house and ran to the well to succour her. The lady, who had hidden herself near the door, no sooner saw him run to the well than she slipped into the house and locked herself in; then, getting her to the window, 'You should water your wine, whenas you drink it,' quoth she, 'and not after and by night.' Tofano, hearing this, knew himself to have been fooled and returned to the door, but could get no admission and proceeded to bid her open to him; but she left speaking softly, as she had done till then, and began, well nigh at a scream, to say, 'By Christ His Cross, tiresome sot that thou art, thou shalt not enter here to-night; I cannot brook these thy fashions any longer; needs must I let every one see what manner of man thou art and at what hour thou comest home anights.' Tofano, on his side, flying into a rage, began to rail at her and bawl; whereupon the neighbours, hearing the clamour, arose, both men and women, and coming to the windows, asked what was to do. The lady answered, weeping, 'It is this wretch of a man, who still returneth to me of an evening, drunken, or falleth asleep about the taverns and after cometh home at this hour; the which I have long suffered, but, it availing me not and I being unable to put up with it longer, I have bethought me to shame him therefor by locking him out of doors, to see and he will mend himself thereof.' [Footnote 350: _Riporre_, possibly a mistake for _riportare_, to fetch back.]

• From Jesus and His Jewish Influences (2015)

  Lecture 9—Desolating Sacrilege and the Maccabean Revolt Lecture 9 Desolating Sacrilege and the Maccabean Revolt I n 167 B.C., Antiochus IV decreed “that all should be one people and that all should give up their particular customs.” The Jerusalem Temple was rededicated to the worship of the Greek god Zeus, and the practice of Judaism was now outlawed—a crime punishable by death. Antiochus IV’s edict sparked the outbreak of a Jewish revolt, led by the Maccabees. In this lecture, we cover the turbulent period in Judea before and during the Maccabean Revolt. We conclude by considering the Book of Daniel, which was written around the time of the revolt, and examine the term “desolating sacrilege,” which occurs in Daniel and is repeated in Jesus’s prophesies about the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem. The Decree of Antiochus IV ●● In 172 B.C., Jason sent Menelaus to Antiochus IV to make a payment in order to maintain his position as high priest in the Temple of Jerusalem. However, Menelaus betrayed Jason and secured the high priesthood for himself, outbidding Jason by 300 talents of silver. Menelaus was from a priestly family, but he was not from the Zadokite line—the family that had traditionally held the high priesthood in the Jerusalem Temple. The Zadokites lost control of the high priesthood, and Jason was driven out of Jerusalem. ●● According to 1 Maccabees, Antiochus IV issued a decree to all his people, in which he directed them to: follow customs strange to the land, to forbid burnt offerings and sacrifices and drink offerings in the sanctuary, to profane Sabbaths and festivals, to defile the sanctuary and the priests, to build altars and sacred precincts for idols, to sacrifice swine and other unclean animals, and to leave their sons uncircumcised. They were to make themselves abominable by everything unclean and profane so that they would forget the law and change all the ordinances. Whoever does not obey the command of the King shall die.

• From Another Country (1962)

  “Oh, everything’s fine now,” she said, and made a grotesquely girlish little skip, holding heavily onto Lincoln’s hand. “Dick doesn’t care much about soul-searching, but he’s good at what he cares about.” The man she thus described moved stiffly beside her, his face a ruddy mask of uncertainty, clearly determined to do the right thing, whatever the right thing might prove to be. “Come and have a drink with us,” Jane said. They were standing on the corner, in the lights spilling outward from a bar. The light illumined and horribly distorted her face, so that her eyes looked like coals of fire and her mouth stretched joylessly back upon the gums. “For old times’ sake.” “No, thank you,” he said. “I’m going on home. I’ve had a long, hard day.” “Rushing home to your chick?” “Good thing to rush home to, if you’ve got one,” Dick Lincoln said, putting his pink, nerveless hand on Jane’s shoulder. Somehow, she bore it; but not without another girlish twitch. She said, “Vivaldo’s got a great chick.” She turned to Dick Lincoln. “I bet you think you’re a liberal,” she said, “but this boy, baby, he’s miles ahead of you. He’s miles ahead of me; why, if I was as liberal as my friend, Vivaldo, here”—she laughed; a very tall Negro boy passed them, looking at them briefly—“why, I wouldn’t be with you, you poor white slob. I’d be with the biggest, blackest buck I could find!” Vivaldo felt his skin prickling, Dick Lincoln blushed. Jane laughed, and Vivaldo realized that others, both black and white, were watching them. “Maybe I should have gone with her brother,” Jane said, “would you have liked me better if I had? Or were you going with him, too? Can’t ever tell about a liberal,” and she turned her face, laughing, into Dick Lincoln’s shoulder. Lincoln stared helplessly into Vivaldo’s eyes. “She’s all yours, mister,” Vivaldo said, and at this Jane looked up at him, not laughing at all, her face livid, and old with rage. And all his anger left him at once.

• From Little Women (1868)

  March was very busy trying to finish a letter, which must go at once, and Hannah had the grumps, for being up late didn't suit her. "There never was such a cross family!" cried Jo, losing her temper when she had upset an inkstand, broken both boot lacings, and sat down upon her hat. "You're the crossest person in it!" returned Amy, washing out the sum that was all wrong with the tears that had fallen on her slate. "Beth, if you don't keep these horrid cats down cellar I'll have them drowned," exclaimed Meg angrily as she tried to get rid of the kitten which had scrambled up her back and stuck like a burr just out of reach. Jo laughed, Meg scolded, Beth implored, and Amy wailed because she couldn't remember how much nine times twelve was. "Girls, girls, do be quiet one minute! I must get this off by the early mail, and you drive me distracted with your worry," cried Mrs. March, crossing out the third spoiled sentence in her letter. There was a momentary lull, broken by Hannah, who stalked in, laid two hot turnovers on the table, and stalked out again. These turnovers were an institution, and the girls called them 'muffs', for they had no others and found the hot pies very comforting to their hands on cold mornings. Hannah never forgot to make them, no matter how busy or grumpy she might be, for the walk was long and bleak. The poor things got no other lunch and were seldom home before two. "Cuddle your cats and get over your headache, Bethy. Goodbye, Marmee. We are a set of rascals this morning, but we'll come home regular angels. Now then, Meg!" And Jo tramped away, feeling that the pilgrims were not setting out as they ought to do. They always looked back before turning the corner, for their mother was always at the window to nod and smile, and wave her hand to them. Somehow it seemed as if they couldn't have got through the day without that, for whatever their mood might be, the last glimpse of that motherly face was sure to affect them like sunshine. "If Marmee shook her fist instead of kissing her hand to us, it would serve us right, for more ungrateful wretches than we are were never seen," cried Jo, taking a remorseful satisfaction in the snowy walk and bitter wind. "Don't use such dreadful expressions," replied Meg from the depths of the veil in which she had shrouded herself like a nun sick of the world. "I like good strong words that mean something," replied Jo, catching her hat as it took a leap off her head preparatory to flying away altogether.

• From Push (1996)

  She closer to the door than me but I mean my muver don't move 'less she has to. I mean that. When I go to answer the buzzer I realize I'm still grabbing the knife. I hate my muver sometimes. She is ugly I think sometime. I press talk on the intercom and holler, "Stop ringing the goddam buzzer mutherfucker!" and go back to the kitchen to finish the dishes. The buzzer ring again. I go back. "Stop ringing the goddam buzzer," I say again. The mutherfucker ring again. "Stop it!" It ring again. "STOP IT!" I shout again. It ring again. My muver jump in and say, "Press listen stupid!" I wanna say I ain' stupid but I know I am so I don't say nothin', 'cause also I don't want her to go hit me, 'cause I know from my hand in the dishwater holding the butcher knife, I am through being hit. I am going to stab her she ever hit Precious Jones again. I press listen. "It's Sondra Lichenstein for Claireece Jones and Ms Mary Johnston." Mrs Lichenstein! What that hoe want? She want me to hit her for real this time. "Who that Precious?" my muver say. I say, "White bitch from school." "What she want?" my muver say. "I don't know." "Ask her," my muver say. I press talk 'n say, "What you want?" Then I press listen and Mrs Lichenstein say, "I want to talk to you about your education." This bitch crazy. I was going to school everyday till her honky ass snatch me out the hall, fuck with my mind, make me go off on her, suspend me from school jus' because I'm pregnant—you know, end up my education. Now her white ass out on Lenox Avenue talkin' 'bout she wanna talk to me about my education. Lord where is crack addicts when you need 'em. "What all this about Precious?" my muver asks. My muver don't want no white shit like Mrs Lichenstein social worker teacher ass nosing around here. My muver don't want to get cut off, welfare that is. And that's what white shit like Mrs Lichenstein comin' to visit result in. If I wasn't pregnant and having trouble with the stairs, I run down and kick her ass. My muver say, "Eighty-six that bitch." I says into the intercom, "Hasta la vista, baby." That's Spanish for good-bye but when niggers say it, it's like, kiss my ass. Ring go buzzer again. I don't believe this retarded hoe. I press talk 'n say, "Git outta here Mrs Lichenstein 'fore I kick your ass." The bell go ring. I press listen. "Claireece I am so sorry about Thursday. I had only wanted to help you. I...' Mr Wicher says you're one of his best students, that you have an aptitude for math." She pause like she thinking what to say next, then she say, "I've called a Ms McKnight at Higher Education Alternative/Each One Teach One.

• From The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (1915)

  A negligence of the ritual acts in the same way. It, too, is a menace for the group; it touches it in its moral existence for it touches it in its beliefs. But if the anger which it causes is affirmed ostensibly and energetically, it compensates the evil which it has caused. For if it is acutely felt by all, it is because the infraction committed is an exception and the common faith remains entire. So the moral unity of the group is not endangered. Now the penalty inflicted as an expiation is only a manifestation of the public anger, the material proof of its unanimity. So it really does have the healing effect attributed to it. At bottom, the sentiment which is at the root of the real expiatory rites does not differ in nature from that which we have found at the basis of the other piacular rites: it is a sort of irritated sorrow which tends to manifest itself by acts of destruction. Sometimes it is assuaged to the detriment of him who feels it; sometimes it is at the expense of some foreign third party. But in either case, the psychic mechanism is essentially the same.[1290] IV One of the greatest services which Robertson Smith has rendered to the science of religions is to have pointed out the ambiguity of the notion of sacredness. Religious forces are of two sorts. Some are beneficent, guardians of the physical and moral order, dispensers of life and health and all the qualities which men esteem: this is the case with the totemic principle, spread out in the whole species, the mythical ancestor, the animal-protector, the civilizing heroes and the tutelar gods of every kind and degree. It matters little whether they are conceived as distinct personalities or as diffused energies; under either form they fulfil the same function and affect the minds of the believers in the same way: the respect which they inspire is mixed with love and gratitude. The things and the persons which are normally connected with them participate in the same sentiments and the same character: these are holy things and persons. Such are the spots consecrated to the cult, the objects which serve in the regular rites, the priests, the ascetics, etc.--On the other hand, there are evil and impure powers, productive of disorders, causes of death and sickness, instigators of sacrilege. The only sentiments which men have for them are a fear into which horror generally enters. Such are the forces upon which and by which the sorcerer acts, those which arise from corpses or the menstrual blood, those freed by every profanation of sacred things, etc. The spirits of the dead and malign genii of every sort are their personified forms.