"Rage" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... the question: 'Henry, what is der Glaube in French?' and six times, and each time with a greater burst of tears, did I answer him—'It is le credit' And at the seventh time, his face purple with rage, the infuriated questioner screamed out: 'It is la religion'; and a rain of cuffs descended upon me, and all the other boys burst out laughing. Since that day I have never been able to hear la religion mentioned, without feeling ...
— Selections from the Prose Works of Matthew Arnold • Matthew Arnold
... the first serious discharge made by the enemy in that campaign! The fall of its leader, so immediately in its presence, seemed to rouse the column into a sense of the necessity of doing something effective, and it assaulted the party in its front with the rage of so many tigers, dispersing the enemy like chaff; making a considerable number of prisoners, besides killing and wounding not ...
— Satanstoe • James Fenimore Cooper
... horror. No doubt he had been over to Ambleside to speak to the police; and he had arranged that the little servant, Daisy, should come to her when he left. But if he had merely caught her to him with one shuddering cry of love and rage—that would have been worth all his precautions!—would have effaced the ...
— Fenwick's Career • Mrs. Humphry Ward
... words (for monsieur was very shabbily attired) were scarcely uttered when Railsford's door suddenly opened and Munger was sent reeling across the lobby under a blow which echoed through the house. The Master of the Shell, white with rage, stood there with a look on his face which sent the few loiterers packing to their dens, and made Munger only sorry the wall against which he staggered did not open and ...
— The Master of the Shell • Talbot Baines Reed
... Mount Caucasus of a bleak chain-cable, he gave himself postprandially, in full livery of seisin, to the vulturous sun. Wasted, yet daily renewed, enduring, yet murmuring not, he hurled defiance at Fat, scoffed at the vain rage of Jupiter Pinguis, and proffered to the world below a new life in his fiery gift of stale bran-bread. Would you could have heard that vesper hymn stealing hirsute through the mellow evening-air! It sung the Peptic Saints and Martyrs, ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 85, November, 1864 • Various
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