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.

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• From Go Tell It on the Mountain (1953)

  Sometimes it occurred to him to do the Saturday shopping on his way home, so that she would not have to do it; in which case he would buy a turkey, the biggest and most expensive he could find, and several pounds of coffee, it being his belief that there was never enough in the house, and enough breakfast cereal to feed an army for a month. Such foresight always filled him with such a sense of his own virtue that, as a kind of reward, he would also buy himself a bottle of whisky; and—lest she should think that he was drinking too much—invite some ruffian home to share it with him. Then they would sit all afternoon in her parlour, playing cards and telling indecent jokes, and making the air foul with whisky and smoke. She would sit in the kitchen, cold with rage and staring at the turkey, which, since Frank always bought them unplucked and with the head on, would cost her hours of exasperating, bloody labour. Then she would wonder what on earth had possessed her to undergo such hard trials and travel so far from home, if all she had found was a two-room apartment in a city she did not like, and a man yet more childish than any she had known when she was young. Sometimes from the parlour where he and his visitor sat he would call her: ‘Hey, Flo!’ And she would not answer. She hated to be called ‘Flo,’ but he never remembered. He might call her again, and when she did not answer he would come into the kitchen. ‘What’s the matter with you, girl? Don’t you hear me a-calling you?’ And once when she still made no answer, but sat perfectly still, watching him with bitter eyes, he was forced to make verbal recognition that there was something wrong. ‘What’s the matter, old lady? You mad at me?’

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  ” "Too heavy, Thomas, too heavy...?" "Yes; Lord, let's not play tragedy! Let's talk a little modestly and not with 'Everything is over' and 'Your unfortunate Antonie'! Don't get me wrong Tony; you know well that I'm the first to be so happy about your coming. I've been wishing for a long time that you would come to visit without your husband, so that we could once again sit together en famille . But for you to come now and come like this , sorry, that's stupid, my child!... Yes... let me finish! – Permaneder behaved very badly, that must be true, and I will make him understand that too, be sure…” ' How he behaved, Thomas,' she interrupted him, straightening up and laying a hand on her breast, 'I have already made him understand and not just 'understand given,' I want to tell you. According to my sense of tact, further arguments with the man are completely inappropriate!' With that she fell back again and looked sternly and impassively up at the ceiling. He bowed as if under the weight of her words, looking down at his knees with a smile. 'Well, then, I won't write him a rough letter: just as you command. In the end it's your business, and it's quite enough that you put his head in the right place yourself; as his wife you are called to it. Viewed in the light of day, the mitigating circumstances cannot be denied. A friend has celebrated his name day, he comes home in a festive mood, in a little too good a mood, and is guilty of a little assault, a little unseemly infidelity..." "Thomas," she said, "I don't understand you. I don't understand the tone in which you speak! You... A man of your principles... But you didn't see him! The way he touched her when he was drunk, the way he looked..." 'Weird enough as I can imagine. But that's it, Tony: you're not being funny enough, and of course that's your stomach's fault. You caught your husband in a weakness, you saw him a little ridiculously... but that shouldn't upset you so terribly, but rather amuse you a little and bring him even closer to you as a person... I'll tell you one thing: you could understand his behavior of course not readily approve with a smile and silence, forbid. You left: that was a demonstration, perhaps a little lively, perhaps too severe a punishment - because I don't want to see how sad he is sitting there at this moment - but fair anyway. My request is only there you want to look at things a little less indignantly and a little more from the political point of view... we're talking privately. I have to point out to you that in a marriage it is by no means irrelevant which side has the … moral superiority … understand me, Tony! Your husband has revealed a weakness, there's no doubt about that.

• From Love & Sex: A Christian Guide to Healthy Intimacy (2018)

  Sitting quietly, the women looked at each other, hoping someone would volunteer to go first. And then—God bless Mary Francis. You have to love a girl like her. She just tells it like it is. Looking right at Olivia, she said with exasperation, “Well, last Saturday night, Todd wasn’t home by ten like he said he would be. He was supposed to be working on his brother’s truck, but when I called my sister-in-law she said he left about an hour earlier. Pissed, I called my mom and asked her to come over and stay with the kids while I went and found out where that man was. I had my suspicions, so I hightailed it down to his favorite bar. Sure enough, there he was at the bar with a beer in one hand and his other hand wrapped around the waist of some cute little blonde. I wanted to smash a beer bottle over his head. I nearly dragged him by his ear out of that place and threatened to call my attorney right then and there. What a dog! And this isn’t the first time I have caught him messing around, and don’t get me started on what I have found on his computer! “I know it’s not all him. I play some crazy games with that man. One minute I am lovin’ him and the next I am screaming at him, telling him how much I hate him! He says I am a yo-yo, and he isn’t sure which person he is going to get on any given day. Heck, on impulse, I went and got these implants, thinking bigger breasts would get his attention. The surgeon tried to talk me out of this size, saying they were too big for my small frame. I wouldn’t listen, and now I feel like I am wearing a floatation device twenty-four seven!” Frustrated, Mary Francis threw her hands up in the air and continued, “Why do I even want to stay with a man who cheats on me and looks at porn? Is there something wrong with me?” Her blue eyes softened and filled with tears, as she asked the question hundreds of women have asked. “Am I the stupidest thing on the planet? Is our marriage real? Does he even love me?” Betty, the woman sitting next to Mary Francis, with kind eyes and soft, wrinkled hands, reached over to Mary Francis and said, “Darling, you aren’t stupid. You have invested your life in this man, and you have children with him—you aren’t stupid.” Olivia asked Betty if she would like to share her story. Betty looked at her hands she was wringing.

• From Go Tell It on the Mountain (1953)

  And among those many voices, and stammering with his own, John would care no longer for her testimony. When he had finished and the room was ready for Sunday, John felt dusty and weary and sat down beside the window in his father’s easy chair. A glacial sun filled the streets, and a high wind filled the air with scraps of paper and frosty dust, and banged the hanging signs of stores and store-front churches. It was the end of winter, and the garbage-filled snow that had been banked along the edges of pavements was melting now and filling the gutters. Boys were playing stickball in the damp, cold streets; dressed in heavy woollen sweaters and heavy trousers, they danced and shouted, and the ball went crack as the stick struck it and sent it speeding through the air. One of them wore a bright-red stocking cap with a great ball of wool hanging down behind that bounced as he jumped, like a bright omen above his head. The cold sun made their faces like copper and brass, and through the closed window John heard their coarse, irreverent voices. And he wanted to be one of them, playing in the streets, unfrightened, moving with such grace and power, but he knew this could not be. Yet, if he could not play their games, he could do something they could not do; he was able, as one of his teachers said, to think. But this brought him little in the way of consolation, for to-day he was terrified of his thoughts. He wanted to be with these boys in the street, heedless and thoughtless, wearing out his treacherous and bewildering body. But now it was eleven o’clock, and in two hours his father would be home. And then they might eat, and then his father would lead them in prayer, and then he would give them a Bible lesson. By and by it would be evening and he would go to clean the church, and remain for tarry service. Suddenly, sitting at the window, and with a violence unprecedented, there arose in John a flood of fury and tears, and he bowed his head, fists clenched against the window-pane, crying, with teeth on edge: ‘What shall I do? What shall I do?’ Then his mother called him; and he remembered that she was in the kitchen washing clothes and probably had something for him to do. He rose sullenly and walked into the kitchen. She stood over the wash-tub, her arms wet and soapy to the elbows and sweat standing on her brow. Her apron, improvised from an old sheet, was wet where she had been leaning over the scrubbing-board.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  I passed over it in silence when you paid me 100,000 Kurantmarks when I got married and settled down, and in my will once and for all only an inheritance of 100,000 awarded. At the time, I wasn't even sufficiently informed about your financial situation. Now, however, I see it more clearly, and since I do not need to consider myself disinherited in principle , I am claiming compensation of 33,335 Kurantmarks in this particular case, that is to say a third of the purchase price. I will not conjecture to what damnable influences I owe the treatment I have hitherto had to endure; but I protest against it with all the legal sense of a Christian and a businessman and I assure you for the last time that if you cannot bring yourself to respect my just claims, I shall no longer respect you as a Christian , nor as a father , nor as a businessman . Gotthold Buddenbrook ." 'Forgive me if I don't feel like praying this litany to you again. - Voila! And with a grim gesture Joh. Buddenbrook threw the letter to his son. The Consul caught the paper as it fluttered at the height of his knees and followed his father's steps with confused and sad eyes. The old gentleman grabbed the long candle snuffer that was leaning against the window and walked boldly and enraged along the table to the opposite corner, to the candelabra. » Ace! I say. N'en parlons plus , period! To bed! In advance! ' One flame after another disappeared without resurrecting under the small metal funnel attached to the top of the pole. Only two candles were still burning when the old man turned back to his son, whom he could hardly see back there. » Eh bien , what are you standing, what are you saying? You must say something!” 'What shall I say, Father? - I'm at a loss." "It's easy for you to be at a loss!" retorted Johann Buddenbrook with malicious emphasis, although he knew himself that there was not much truth in this remark, and that his son and Associé had at times been superior to him in determinedly seizing the advantage. "Evil and damnable influences..." continued the Consul. “That's the first line I decipher! You don't understand how this torments me, father? And he accuses us of being unchristian!” "You'll let yourself be intimidated by this miserable scribbling, yes?!" Johann Buddenbrook came up angrily, dragging the candle snuffer behind him. “Unchristianity! Ha! Tasteful, I must say - this pious greed for money! What kind of company are you, you young people, - how? Head full of Christian and fantastic nonsense... and... idealism! and we old people are the heartless mockers ... and by the way the July monarchy and the practical ideals ... and rather send the old father the coarsest sottis to the house than give up a few thousand thalers! ...

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  There are the people!« The two had crossed the corridor and went out the front door, stopping on the top of the three narrow steps that led to the sidewalk. The street bot a strange sight. It had died out, and at the open, already lighted windows of the surrounding houses one could see curious people looking down at the black crowd of rebels crowding in front of the town hall. This crowd was not much larger in number than the congregation in the hall and consisted of young dock and warehouse workers, porters, elementary school students, a few sailors from merchant ships and other people who lived in the small parts of the city, in the "Twieten", "Gegangen", »Wischen« and »Höfen« were at home. There were also three or four women who probably expected similar success from this company as the Buddenbrooksche cook. A few rebels, tired of standing, sat down on the pavement with their feet in the gutter and were eating sandwiches. It was almost six o'clock, and although dusk was far advanced, the oil lamps hung unlit on their chains across the street. This fact, this open and unheard-of disruption of order, was the first thing that genuinely angered the Consul Buddenbrook, and it was because of it that he began to speak in rather short and angry tones: "Lüd, what is that stupid now Tüg, what Ji is doing there!« The snackers had jumped up from the sidewalk. Those behind, on the other side of the embankment, stood on tiptoe. Some of the dockers who were in the consul's service took off their caps. You drew attention, nudged your side and said under your breath, 'Dat's Kunsel Buddenbrook! Kunsel Buddenbrook wants to get a Red! Holl din Mul, Krischan, hey can warn like hell!... Dat's broker Gosch... Kiek! Dat's son Aap!... Is he beeten öwerspönig?' "Corl Smolt!" the Consul began again, fixing his small, deep-set eyes on a bow-legged warehouse worker of about twenty-two who stood just before the steps, cap in hand and mouthful of bread. 'Now talk, Corl Smolt! Now it's Tiet! Ji heww here the leewen long Namiddag roars …« "Je, Mister Kunsel..." Corl Smolt ground out, chewing. "It's now like that ... ugh ... It's now like that ... We're making a revolution." "What's that for Undög, Smolt!" "Hey, Mr. Kunsel, bless that, oh who that's the way it is now ... we don't sin to baptize myself with de Saak ... We now demand an order, and that's okay, I don't like it that it's something ... " 'Listen, Smolt, and you annern Lüd! Anyone who's a sensible kid now goes to the house and doesn't bother about the revolution with me and doesn't disturb the order here..." “The holy order!” Mr. Gosch interrupted him hissing … "Order, seg ick!" decided Consul Buddenbrook. "The lamps aren't even lit...

• From Go Tell It on the Mountain (1953)

  They each had, it seemed, a bagful of sermons often preached; and knew, in the careless lifting of an eye, which sermon to bring to which congregation. Though they preached with great authority, and brought souls low before the altar—like so many ears of corn lopped off by the hired labourer in his daily work—they did not give God the glory, nor count it as glory at all; they might as easily have been, Gabriel thought, highly paid circus-performers, each with his own special dazzling gift. Gabriel discovered that they spoke, jokingly, of the comparative number of souls each of them had saved, as though they were keeping score in a pool-room. And this offended him and frightened him. He did not want, ever, to hold the gift of God so lightly. They, the ministers, were being served alone in the upper room of the lodge hall—the less-specialized workers in Christ’s vineyard were being fed at a table downstairs—and the women kept climbing up and down the stairs with loaded platters to see that they ate their fill. Deborah was one of the serving-women, and though she did not speak, and despite his discomfort, he nearly burst each time she entered the room, with the pride he knew she felt to see him sitting there, so serene and manly, among all these celebrated others, in the severe black and white that was his uniform. And if only, he felt, his mother could be there to see—her Gabriel, mounted so high! But, near the end of the dinner, when the women had brought up the pies, and coffee, and cream, and when the talk around the table had become more jolly and more good-naturedly loose than ever, the door had but barely closed behind the women when one of the elders, a heavy, cheery, sandy-haired man, whose face, testifying no doubt to the violence of his beginnings, was splashed with freckles like dried blood, laughed and said, referring to Deborah, that there was a holy woman, all right! She had been choked so early on white men’s milk, and it remained so sour in her belly yet, that she would never be able, now, to find a nigger who would let her taste his richer, sweeter substance. Everyone at the table roared, but Gabriel felt his blood turn cold that God’s ministers should be guilty of such abominable levity, and that that woman sent by God to comfort him, and without whose support he might already have fallen by the wayside, should be held in such dishonour. They felt, he knew, that among themselves a little rude laughter could do no harm; they were too deeply rooted in the faith to be made to fall by such an insignificant tap from Satan’s hammer.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  In short, Thomas, it was actually this word, that you know it, that made meforced me to pack up all night and wake Erika early in the morning and go away, because I couldn't stay with a man near whom I must be aware of such words, and I'm becoming such a man, as I said, never return ... or I would have to degenerate and no longer respect myself and would no longer have a footing in life!« "Will you be so kind as to share that goddamn word with me, yes or no?" "Never Thomas! I will never repeat it with my lips! I know what I owe me and you in these rooms..." "Then I can't talk to you!" "This may be; and I wish we didn't talk about it any more..." "What you wanna do? Do you want a divorce?' 'I want that, Tom. That is my firm resolution. This is the course of action I owe to myself and my child and to all of you.” "Well, that's nonsense, then," he said calmly, turning on his heel and walking away from her as if that were the end of it. 'It takes two to divorce, my child; and that permaneder so easily with pleasure willing to do that, I guess the thought is just amusing..." "Oh, let that be my worries," she said, not being intimidated. “You mean that he will resist because of my 17,000 thaler curator; but Grünlich didn't want to either, and they forced him, there are ways, and I'm going to Doctor Gieseke; that's Christian's friend, and he'll help me... Certainly, it was different back then, I know what you're trying to say. Back then it was 'man's inability to support his family' yes! You see, by the way, that I know very well about these things, while you really act as if it were the first time in my life that I'm getting a divorce!... But that doesn't matter, Tom. Maybe it's not possible and impossible - that may be; you're welcome to be right. But that doesn't change anything. That doesn't change my resolutions. Then he may keep the pennies - there are higher things in life! But he'll never see me again." And then she cleared her throat. She had left the bed and settled into the armchair, one elbow propped on the armrest and her chin buried so firmly in her hand that four crooked fingers gripped her lower lip. So, her upper body turned sideways, she stared out through the window with excited and reddened eyes. The Consul paced the room, sighed, shook his head, and shrugged. Finally he stopped in front of her, hands clasped. "You're a child, Tony!" he said despondently and pleadingly. "Every word you speak is childish! Now, if I ask you, will you not deign to look at things like an adult for a single moment?!

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  Doctor Drögemüller in Hamburg told me that all the nerves on this side are too short... Imagine, on the whole left side all nerves too short with me! It's so strange... sometimes I feel like there's going to be some kind of cramp or paralysis here on my side, paralysis forever... You have no idea... I never sleep properly at night. I start up because suddenly my heart stops beating and I get a terrible shock... It doesn't happen once, but ten times before I fall asleep. I don't know if you know it... I'll describe it to you in detail... It's..." "Never mind," said the Consul coldly. "I don't suppose you came here to tell me this?" 'No, Thomas, if it were only that ; but that 's not all! It's business… I can't do it now.” "You're in disorder again?" The Consul didn't even startle, he didn't raise his voice. He asked it very calmly, looking sideways at his brother with a weary coldness. "No, Thomas. And to tell the truth - it doesn't matter anyway - I never really got well, not even because of the tens of thousands at the time, as you know yourself ... They were actually only so that I didn't have to close the door right away. The thing is… I had losses right after that, in coffee… and in the bankruptcy in Antwerp… That's true. But then I didn't really do anything anymore and kept quiet. But one has to live... and now there are bills of exchange and other debts... five thousand thalers... Oh, you don't know how much I'm down! And on top of all this torment..." "So you've kept quiet!" the Consul yelled, frantic. At that moment, however, he lost his composure. “You left the car in the dirt and entertained yourself otherwise! Do you think I can't see how you lived, in the theater and in the circus and in clubs and with inferior women?" “You mean Aline… Yes, you have little sense for these things, Thomas, and it is perhaps my misfortune that I have too much sense have for because you are right in that it has cost me too much and will still cost quite a lot, because I want to tell you one thing... we are brothers here... The third child, the little girl, who has been here for half a year... it's mine." "Donkey." 'Don't say that, Thomas. You must be just, even in anger, against them and against... why shouldn't it be from me. But as for Aline, she is by no means inferior; you must not say such a thing. It is by no means indifferent to her with whom she lives, and she has broken off with Consul Holm on my behalf, who has much more money than I do, she is so well-disposed... No, you have no idea, Thomas, what a magnificent creature that is !

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  what are you asking, Papa!... I never loved him... he was always disgusting to me ... don't you know that ...?" It would be difficult to say what was happening in Johann Buddenbrook's face. His eyes were startled and sad, and yet he tightened his lips so that the corners of his mouth and cheeks puckered as they did when he had concluded a profitable deal. He said softly, "Four years..." Tony's tears suddenly stopped. Damp handkerchief in hand, she sat up in her seat and said angrily: 'Four years ... ha! sometimes he sat with me in the evenings and read the newspaper during those four years...!" "God has given you both a child..." said the Consul, moved. “Yes, papa ... and I love Erika very much ... although Grünlich claims that I am not fond of children ... I would never part with her, I tell you that ... but Grünlich - no! ... Grünlich - no! ... Now he does it too Bankruptcy!... Oh papa, if you want to take me and Erika home... with joy! Now you know!« The Consul's lips tightened again; he was extremely satisfied. Still, the main point had yet to be touched upon, but with the determination Tony displayed it was little risk. 'In all this,' he said, 'you seem to be completely forgetting, my child, that help is possible... through me. Your father has already confessed to you that he cannot necessarily feel guiltless towards you, and in that case... well, in that case In case you hope it of him ... expect ... would he step in, would he prevent the falliment, would he willy-nilly cover your husband's debts and keep his business afloat..." He examined her intently, and her expression filled him with satisfaction. It expressed disappointment. "How much is it actually?" she asked. "What does that matter, my child . . . a great, great sum!" And Consul Buddenbrook nodded his head several times, as if the force of the thought of that sum was slowly shaking him from side to side. 'But,' he continued, 'I must not hide from you that, quite apart from this matter, the company has suffered losses and that giving away this sum would mean a weakening for them from which it is difficult ... difficult to recover could recover. I'm not saying that to..." He didn't finish. Tony had jumped up, she had actually stepped back a few steps and, still holding the wet lace handkerchief, she called out, "Good! Enough! Never!" She looked almost heroic. The word "company" had taken hold. It was very likely that it had a more decisive effect than even her dislike for Herr Grünlich. "You're not doing that, papa!" she went on, quite beside herself. 'Do you want to go bankrupt too? Enough! Never!" At that moment the corridor door opened hesitantly and Herr Grünlich entered. Johann Buddenbrook got up with a movement that said: Done.

• From Love & Sex: A Christian Guide to Healthy Intimacy (2018)

  Because you got a double dose of trouble and more than your share of contempt. Your inheritance in the land will be doubled and your joy go on forever. Again in Luke 4:18, Jesus says, “God’s Spirit is on me . . . To set the burdened and battered free.” He knew our hearts would get broken in this world, but He has made a way for those hearts to be healed. As you have already experienced, we will grieve the bad together, celebrate the good, work on healthy attachments, set boundaries, and continue to develop your adult voice. “Does anyone have a 911 today? Anyone in crisis?” Angie, an ER nurse started, “I think I hate him.” “Can you tell us more, Angie?” “I knew on our honeymoon that I had made a mistake. But what could I do—I was stuck with him. I wanted kids more than I wanted a husband, so I had four kids with him. And now that I have the kids, I just want him and his need for sex to go away. I don’t ever want him to touch me again, and he is always wanting to touch me. He needs to get out of my life for good!” “You really want him to go away,” Olivia responded. “Yes, if he left, my life would be perfect,” Angie said vehemently. “You’re convinced that if you could get rid of him, all would be well in your world,” Olivia replied. “Yep, I could do whatever I wanted, without him bothering me.” “Angie, is this about your attachment style or about him?” Olivia asked. Angie popped back with, “It’s about him of course; isn’t that why we are here, because we are all married to a bunch of perverts?” “I don’t know, Angie. Is that why you are here?” Olivia responded. “Is your husband a pervert?” “Well, he badgers me for sex,” Angie grimaced. “Does he demand sex from you frequently?” Olivia asked. “Or does he long to share sexual intimacy with you and maybe has an immature way of asking for that or initiating with you?” Angie sat back in her chair and let out a deep huff. “I haven’t ever thought of that before; I don’t know if I care. I just want him to go away. I can take care of me and the kids—I don’t need him anymore.” “Angie,” Olivia probed, “Is this about what’s going on inside of you or about your husband?” Angie fired back, “I don’t want a man in my life! They are too needy, and I feel suffocated by his presence in the house. I’m always running away from him. As a matter of fact, I run twenty miles a week, just trying to avoid him! I don’t want to be close with him, and I sure as heck don’t want to have sex with him. He makes me want to scream; I feel so mad and stuck!”

• From Go Tell It on the Mountain (1953)

  And he saw, in this wandering, how far his people had wandered from God. They had all turned aside, and gone out into the wilderness, to fall down before idols of gold and silver, and wood and stone, false gods that could not heal them. The music that filled any town or city he entered was not the music of the saints but another music, infernal, which glorified lust and held righteousness up to scorn. Women, some of whom should have been at home, teaching their grandchildren how to pray, stood, night after night, twisting their bodies into lewd hallelujahs in smoke-filled, gin-heavy dance halls, singing for their ‘loving man.’ And their loving man was any man, any morning, noon, or night—when one left town they got another—men could drown, it seemed, in their warm flesh and they would never know the difference. ‘It’s here for you and if you don’t get it it ain’t no fault of mine.’ They laughed at him when they saw him—‘a pretty man like you?’—and they told him that they knew a long brown girl who could make him lay his Bible down. He fled from them; they frightened him. He began to pray for Esther. He imagined her standing one day where these women stood to-day. And blood, in all the cities through which he passed, ran down. There seemed no door, anywhere, behind which blood did not call out, unceasingly, for blood; no woman, whether singing before defiant trumpets or rejoicing before the Lord, who had not seen her father, her brother, her lover, or her son cut down without mercy; who had not seen her sister become part of the white man’s great whorehouse, who had not, all too narrowly, escaped that house herself; no man, preaching, or cursing, strumming his guitar in the lone, blue evening, or blowing in fury and ecstasy his golden horn at night, who had not been made to bend his head and drink white men’s muddy water; no man whose manhood had not been, at the root, sickened, whose loins had not been dishonoured, whose seed had not been scattered into oblivion and worse than oblivion, into living shame and rage, and into endless battle. Yes, their parts were all cut off, they were dishonoured, their very names were nothing more than dust blown disdainfully across the field of time—to fall where, to blossom where, bringing forth what fruit hereafter, where?—their very names were not their own.

• From Blue Like Jazz (2003)

  They would talk about how we are in a battle, and I agreed with them, only they wouldn’t clarify that we were battling poverty and hate and injustice and pride and the powers of darkness. They left us thinking that our war was against liberals and homosexuals. Their teaching would have me believe I was the good person in the world and the liberals were the bad people in the world. Jesus taught that we are all bad and He is good, and He wants to rescue us because there is a war going on and we are hostages in that war. The truth is we are supposed to love the hippies, the liberals, and even the Democrats, and that God wants us to think of them as more important than ourselves. Anything short of this is not true to the teachings of Jesus. [image "9780785263708_0145_003" file=Image00048.jpg] So I was speaking at this twenty-something ministry, speaking to about fifty or so people on Sunday nights at a church in the suburbs, all the while dying inside. I wasn’t even attending the main worship service anymore. The pastor who was in charge of the college group asked me why I wasn’t coming to church. He was very kind and sympathetic and said he missed seeing me there. Tony the Beat Poet says I am not good with diplomacy. He says I speak my mind too much and I should consider the ramifications of my words. I can be a real jerk without even realizing it. I told the guy it was hard for me to go to church without getting angry, and I think he took that personally. I tried to explain how I felt, but I was speaking a different language. I felt stupid, too, like some bitter idiot all wet and wanting everybody to cater to me, to my ideas about who Jesus is and was and the way He wants us to live. About that time I started asking God to help me find a church where I would fit. I had this friend from Seattle named Mark who was the pastor of a pretty cool church near the University of Washington, in the village. He had a lot of artists going to his church and a lot of hippies and yuppies and people who listen to public radio. I went up and visited him one time, and I loved the community he had put together. I felt like I could breathe for the first time in years. Visiting Mark’s church in Seattle helped me realize I wasn’t alone in the world. I would talk to my friends about his church, to my friends at the church I was attending, but they didn’t get it. Mark had written several articles for secular magazines and had been interviewed a few times on the radio and had gotten this reputation as a pastor who said cusswords. It is true that Mark said a lot of cusswords.

• From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)

  The trueness of this formula is only equalled by its sterility, for psychological purposes. Practically it amounts to simply referring the inquirer to the relations between facts or things, and to telling him that his thinking follows them. But as a matter of fact, his thinking only sometimes follows them, and these so-called 'transitions of reason' are far from being all alike reasonable. If pure thought runs all our trains, why should she run some so fast and some so slow, some through dull flats and some through gorgeous scenery, some to mountain-heights and jewelled mines, others through dismal swamps and darkness?—and run some off the track altogether, and into the wilderness of lunacy? Why do we spend years straining after a certain scientific or practical problem, but all in vain—thought refusing to evoke the solution we desire? And why, some day, walking in the street with our attention miles away from that quest, does the answer saunter into our minds as carelessly as if it had never been called for—suggested, possibly, by the flowers on the bonnet of the lady in front of us, or possibly by nothing that we can discover? If reason can give us relief then, why did she not do so earlier? The truth must be admitted that thought works under conditions imposed ab extra . The great law of habit itself—that twenty experiences make us recall a thing better than one, that long indulgence in error makes right thinking almost impossible—seems to have no essential foundation in reason. The business of thought is with truth—the number of experiences ought to have nothing to do with her hold of it; and she ought by right to be able to hug it all the closer, after years wasted out of its presence. The contrary arrangements seem quite fantastic and arbitrary, but nevertheless are part of the very bone and marrow of our minds. Reason is only one out of a thousand possibilities in the thinking of each of us. Who can count all the silly fancies, the grotesque suppositions, the utterly irrelevant reflections he makes in the course of a day? Who can swear that his prejudices and irrational beliefs constitute a less bulky part of his mental furniture than his clarified opinions? It is true that a presiding arbiter seems to sit aloft in the mind, and emphasize the better suggestions into permanence, while it ends by dropping out and leaving unrecorded the confusion. But this is all the difference.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  She knows something!' cried the old gentleman, pretending to be plagued by curiosity. "Did you hear mom? she knows what! Can't anyone tell me..." 'If it's a warm blow,' said Tony, nodding his head with each word, 'then lightning will strike. But if it is a cold blow, thunder strikes!” Then she crossed her arms and looked into the laughing faces like one who is sure of his success. But Mr. Buddenbrook was angry at this wisdom, he demanded to know who had taught the child this stupidity, and when it turned out that it was Ida Jungmann, the maid from Marienwerder who had recently been hired to look after the little ones, the Consul had to have this Ida take protection. 'You're too strict, papa. Why shouldn't one be allowed to have one's own whimsical ideas about such things at that age...' » Excusez, mon cher!… Mais c'est une folie! You know that such darkening of children's heads annoys me! What, the Dunner goes in? There should be a glek de Dunner inslahn! Go with your Prussian..." The thing was that the old gentleman couldn't be polite about Ida Jungmann. He was not a limited mind. He had seen a piece of the world, wasyear 13 drove to southern Germany with four horses to buy up grain as a supplier to the army for Prussia, had been to Amsterdam and Paris and, as an enlightened man, by God did not consider everything that lay outside the gates of his gabled hometown to be condemned. Apart from business dealings, however, in social relations he was more inclined than his son, the Consul, to draw strict boundaries and to treat strangers with refusal. So when one day his children from a trip to West Prussia brought this young girl - she was only now twenty years old - into the house as a kind of baby Jesus, an orphan, the daughter of an innkeeper who had died just before the Buddenbrooks arrived in Marienwerder, the consul had to pass an appearance with his father for this pious prank, during which the old gentleman spoke almost only French and Low German ... Incidentally, Ida Jungmann had proven to be competent in the household and dealing with the children and was suitable with her Loyalty and their Prussian notions of rank are basically the best for their position in this house. She was a person of aristocratic principles, sharply distinguishing between first and second circles, middle class and lower middle class, proud to belong to the first circles as a devoted servant, and disliked Tony befriending, say, a schoolmate who according to Mamsell Jungmann's estimation, only belonged to the good middle class ... where the old gentleman spoke almost only French and Low German... By the way, Ida Jungmann had proven to be competent in the household and dealing with the children and with her loyalty and her Prussian notions of rank she was basically best suited for her position in this house.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  it struck , it made Frau Permaneder stand still and freeze in the midst of her business! "Thomas," she said, "am I crazy? Is Gosch imagining? It can't be possible! It's too absurd, too unthinkable, too—” She trailed off, clutching her temples with both hands. But the senator shrugged. »Dear child, nothing is decided yet; but the thought, the possibility has arisen, and with a little quiet reflection you will find that there is nothing unthinkable about it. It's a bit surprising, to be sure. I also took a step back when Gosch told me. But unthinkable? What's in the way?..." "I won't survive," she said, sitting down in a chair and not moving. what was going on A buyer for the house had already been found, or at least a person who was interested in the case and had already expressed the wish to have a thorough look at the property for sale before further negotiations. And that person was Herr Hermann Hagenström, wholesaler and Royal Portuguese Consul. When the first rumor reached Frau Permaneder, she was paralyzed, stunned, stunned, incredulous, unable to grasp the depths of the thought. But now that the question was gaining more and more shape and form, since Consul Hagenstrom's visit to Mengstrasse was quite simply just around the corner, she pulled herself together and it came live in them. She didn't protest, she bucked. She found words, words fiery and sharp-edged, and she wielded them like firebrands and hatchets. 'This is not happening, Thomas! As long as I live, this will not happen! If you sell your dog, then you see what kind of master he gets. And mother's house! Our house! The landscape room!..." "But I'm asking you, what's actually standing in the way?" 'What's in the way? Dear God, what stands in the way! Mountains should stand in his way, this fat man, Thomas! Mountains! But he doesn't see her! He doesn't care! He has no feeling for it! Is he a beast?... Hagenströms have been our adversaries since time immemorial... Old Hinrich bullied grandfather and father, and if Hermann hasn't been able to do anything serious to you, if he hasn't thrown a stick between your legs, it happened, because he hadn't had the opportunity yet... When we were children I slapped him in the street, for which I had my reasons, and his lovely sister Julchen almost scratched me to death for it. That's childishness... good! But they looked on with scorn and joy when we were unlucky, and most of the time I was the one who gave them that pleasure... God willed it that way... But how the Consul harmed you in business, and how impudently he surpassed you, that you must know best, Tom, I cannot tell you.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  "A kiss!" Hermann Hagenstrom cried, wrapping both arms around Tony and kissing blindly without touching her face, for she held her head back with tremendous agility, put her left hand holding the book case against his chest and smacked her right hand three or four times in his face with all his might... He staggered back; but at the same moment Nurse Julchen darted out from behind a tree like a little black devil, threw herself at Tony, hissing with anger, ripped off her hat and scratched her cheeks in the most miserable way... Since this event it was almost over with her camaraderie. Incidentally, it was certainly not out of shyness that Tony refused to kiss young Hagenstrom. She was a rather perky creature, whose exuberance caused some concern to his parents, especially the Consul, and though she had an intelligent mind, quick to learn what was desired at school, her conduct was in such a high degree unsatisfactory that finally even the headmistress, whose name was Miss Agathe Vermehren, appeared in Mengstrasse, sweating a little with embarrassment, and politely told the consul to give the young daughter a serious admonition - because she had, despite many loving ones Warnings, made guilty of blatant mischief again on the street. It was no pity that Tony knew and chatted with everyone as she walked around town; the consul in particular agreed to this because it did not betray arrogance, but public spirit and charity. She climbed, together with Thomas, in the warehouses on the Trave between the masses of oats and wheat that were spread on the floors, she chatted with the workers and the clerks who sat there in the small, dark offices on the ground floor, yes, she even helped unwind the sacks outside. She knew the butchers who wandered down the Breite Strasse in their white aprons and troughs; she knew the milkmaids who came in from the country with their tin cans and sometimes had them drive her a little; she knew the grey-bearded masters in the little wooden goldsmith's booths, But a pale, beardless man of indeterminate age who used to stroll down Broad Street in the mornings with a sad smile on his face can't help it if he's forced to yell at every sudden sound you make—say, "Ha !« or »Ho!« – to dance on one leg; and yet Tony made him dance as soon as she saw him.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  "One hundred and twenty-seven thousand five hundred Kurantmarks!" he exclaimed, shaking his clasped hands in front of his face. 'Be it for the dowry! If only he could have kept the eighty thousand, although there is no child! But the inheritance! Klara's inheritance to him award! And you don't ask me! You walk over me!" ... “Thomas, for Christ's sake, do me justice! Could I have done otherwise? Could I?!... She, by God now, and raptured, she writes to me from her deathbed... in pencil... with a trembling hand... 'Mother,' she writes, 'we shall never meet again down here , and these are, I feel so clearly, my last lines... I am writing them with my last consciousness, which is meant for my husband... God has not blessed us with children; but what would have been mine if I had survived you, leave it, if you follow me there one day - leave it to himfall so that he may enjoy it in his lifetime! Mother, it is my last request... the request of a dying woman... You will not refuse me...' No, Thomas! I didn't refuse her; I could not do it! I cabled her and she went over in peace...” The Consul wept profusely. “And they don't give me a syllable! They're hiding everything from me! I'm being ignored!” repeated the senator. 'Yes, I was silent, Thomas; for I felt that I must fulfill the last request of my dying child ... and I know that you would have tried to forbid it!" "Yes! with God! I would have!« "And you shouldn't have had the right, because three of my children agree with me!" "Oh, methinks my opinion is worth that of two ladies and an ailing fool..." »You speak so unlovingly of your siblings, how hard on me!« »Klara was a pious but ignorant woman, mother! And Tony's a kid - who, by the way, didn't know anything up to this point either, because it would have chatted at the wrong time, wouldn't it? And Christian?... Yes, he got Christian's approval, this Tiburtius... Who would have expected something like that from him?!... Don't you know yet, don't you understand yet what he is, this ingenious pastor? He's a wimp! An inheritance stalker...!” "Sons-in-law are always filous," said Frau Permaneder in a muffled voice. 'An inheritance stalker! What is he doing? He goes to Hamburg, sits by Christian's bed and talks to him. ›Yes!‹ says Christian. 'Yes, Tiburtius. God commanded. Do you have any idea of the torment in my left side?...' Oh, stupidity and wickedness are sworn against me -!'

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  me to make a secret of the matter to you, but to explain it, in order that you may not suppose me capable of act- ing so cruelly without great reason. That lady whom you have seen is my wife, whom I loved more than man ever loved woman. I risked everything to marry her, and I brought her hither in spite of her relations. She, too, evinced so much love for me that I would have haz- arded a thousand lives to obtain her. We lived long in such concord and pleasure that I esteemed myself the happiest gentleman in Christendom ; but honour having obliged me to make a journe}', she forgot hers, and the love she had for me, and conceived a jDassion for a young gentle- man I had brought up in this house. I was near discov- ering the fact on my return home, but I loved her so ardently that I could not bring myself to doubt her- At last, however, experience opened my eyes, and I saw what I feared more than death. The love I had felt for her changed into fury and despair. Feigning one day to go into the country, I hid myself in the chamber which she at present occupies. Soon after my pre- tended departure, she retired to it, and sent for the young gentleman. I saw him enter the room and take liberties with her which should have been reserved for me alone. When I saw him about to enter the bed with her, I issued from my hiding-place, seized him in her arms, and slew him. But as my wife's crime seemed to me so great that it would not have been a sufficient punishment for it had I killed her as I had killed her gallant, I imposed upon her one which I believe is more insupportable than death ; which was, to shut her up in the chamber in which she used to enjoy her stolen pleas- ures. I have hung there in a press all the bones of hef gallant, as one hangs up something precious in a cabinet ; and that she may not forget them at her meals, I have Fourth (fay.] QUEEN OF NA VARRE. jOJ,

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  22. Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? They all say unto him, Let him be crucified. 23. And the governor said, Why, what evil hath he done? But they cried out the more, saying, Let him be crucified. 24. When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person; see ye to it. 25. Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children. 26. Then released he Barabbas unto them: and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified. CHRYSOSTOM. Because Christ had answered nothing to the accusations of the Jews, by which Pilate could acquit Him of what was alleged against Him, he contrives other means of saving Him. Now on the feast day the governor we as wont to release unto the people a prisoner whom they would. ORIGEN. Thus do the Gentiles shew favours to those whom they subject to themselves, until their yoke is riveted. Yet did this practice obtain also among the Jews, Saul did not put Jonathan to death, because all the people sought his life. (1 Sam. 14.) CHRYSOSTOM. And he sought to rescue Christ by means of this practice, that the Jews might not have the shadow of an excuse left them. A convicted murderer is put in comparison with Christ, Barabbas, whom he calls not merely a robber, but a notable one, that is, renowned for crime. JEROME. In the Gospel entitled ‘according to the Hebrews,’ Barabbas is interpreted, ‘The son of their master,’ who had been condemned for sedition and murder. Pilate gives them the choice between Jesus and the robber, not doubting but that Jesus would be the rather chosen. CHRYSOSTOM. Whom will ye that I release unto you? &c. As much as to say, If ye will not let him go as innocent, at least, yield Him, as convicted, to this holy day. For if you would have released one of whose guilt there was no doubt, much more should you do so in doubtful cases. Observe how circumstances are reversed. It is the populace who are wont to petition for the condemned, and the prince to grant, but here it is the reverse, the prince asks of the people, and renders them thereby more violent. GLOSS. (non occ.) The Evangelist adds the reason why Pilate sought to deliver Christ, For he knew that for envy they had delivered him.