Revenge Serie Quotes

Revenge proves its own executioner.

My father wrote: "Always question where your loyalties lie. The people you trust will expect it, your greatest enemies will desire it, and those you treasure the most, will, without fail, abuse it.

Justice, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Some see an innocent victim. Others will see evil incarnate getting exactly what's deserved.

If we choose to, we can live in a world of comforting illusions. We can allow ourselves to be deceived by false realities. Or we can use them to hide our true intentions.

In the art of war, if you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the approaching battles. But if you know only yourself and not the enemy, for every victory, there will also be defeat.

Some say that our lives are defined by the sum of our choices. But it isn't really our choices that distinguish who we are. It's our commitment to them.

They say let he who is without sin cast the first stone. And to be without sin requires absolute forgiveness. But when your memories are freshly opened wounds, forgiveness is the most unnatural of human emotions.

As Hamlet said to Ophelia, ”God has given you one face, and you make yourself another." The battle between these two halves of identity...Who we are and who we pretend to be, is unwinnable. "Just as there are two sides to every story, there are two sides to every person. One that we reveal to the world and another we keep hidden inside. A duality governed by the balance of light and darkness, within each of us is the capacity for both good and evil. But those who are able to blur the moral dividing line hold the true power.

Some say loyalty inspires boundless hope. And while that may be, there is a catch. True loyalty takes years to build... and only seconds to destroy.

To carry a secret is to play with fire. Try to pass it on and you'd risk hurting someone else. Hold on to it and eventually you'd get burned.

There's an old saying about those who cannot remember the past being condemned to repeat it. But those of us who refuse to forget the past are condemned to relive it.

There comes a moment in each of our lives when the control that keeps us sane slips through our fingers. Most of us aim to seize it back. The best way to fight chaos is with chaos.

Truth is a battle of perceptions. People only see what they're prepared to confront. It's not what you look at that matters, but what you see. And when then different perceptions battle against one another, the truth has a way of getting lost. And the monsters find a way of getting out.

Over time, we commit acts with intentions, either good or bad, that require forgiveness.

They say grief occurs in five stages. First there's denial followed by anger. Then comes bargaining, depression and acceptance. But grief is a merciless master. Just when you think you're free you realize you never stood a chance.

Chaos... by its very definition cannot be controlled. Once introduced, all order and intention is rendered useless. The outcome of chaos can never be predicted. The only certainty it brings... is the devastation it leaves in its wake.

The greatest weapon anyone can use against us is our own mind. By preying upon the doubts and uncertainities that already lurk there. Are we true to ourselves or do we live to the expectations of others? And if we are open and honest, can we ever truly be loved? Can we find the courage to release our deepest secrets? Or in the end are we all unknowable even to ourselves.

We all have secrets we keep locked away from the rest of the world... Friendships we pretend... Relationships we hide... But worst of all... Love we never let show. The most dangerous secrets a person can bury are those we keep from ourselves

Doubt is a disease that infects the mind creating a mistrust of peoples motives and ones own perceptions. Doubt has the ability to call into questions everything you ever believed about someone and reinforce the darkest suspicions of our inner circle.

In a race between danger and indecision, the difference between life and death comes down to confidence. Faith in our abilities, certainty in ourselves and the trust we put in others.

Some think intuition is a gift, but it can be a curse as well--a voice calling to us from places that are better left unexplored...an echo of memories that will never die, no matter how hard we try to kill them.

In it's purest form, an act of retribution provides symmetry. The rendering payment of crimes against the innocent. But a danger on retaliation lies on the furthering cycle of violence. Still, it's a risk that must be met; and the greater offense is to allow the guilty go unpunished.

Power can be hoarded by the mighty or stolen from the innocent.Power provides the ability to choose. But has a proclivity for corruption. The use of power is not to be taken lightly, for it is never without consequence.

Trust is a difficult thing, whether it's finding the right people to trust...Or trusting the right people will do the wrong thing. But trusting your heart...is the riskiest thing of all.In the end,the only person we can truly trust... is ourself.

Nature can be cruel. Predators are everywhere. Those who don't need to be protected from outside forces often need to be protected from themselves. In society, women are referred to as "the fairer sex". But in the wild, the female species can be far more ferocious than their male counterparts. Defending the nest is both our oldest and strongest instinct. And sometimes, it can also be the most gratifying.

In every life, there comes a day of reckoning - a time when unsettled scores demand retribution, and our own lies and transgressions are finally laid bare.

The past is a tricky thing. Sometimes it's etched in stone. And other times, it's rendered in soft memories. But if you meddle too long in deep, dark things... Who knows what monsters you'll awaken?

Every human is born of collusion. We come into this world the result of a covenant. Sometimes made of love, Sometimes of circumstance. But almost always made in secret.

Engagement can be a commitment to love or a declaration of war. One must enter every battle without hesitation, willing to fully engage the enemy until death do you apart.

For the righteous, the revelation is a joyous event, the realization of a divine truth. But for the wicked, revelations can be far more terrifying, when dark secrets are exposed and sinners are punished for their trespasses.

In Revenge, as in life, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. In the end the guilty always fall.

For those who believe in resurrection, death is inconsequential. It's not an ending but rather a new beginning. A second chance, a reunion. The very idea of resurrection is so seductive a concept it's easy to forget, before you can rise from the dead you have to spend a few days in hell.

It's been written that a lover is apt to be as full of secrets from himself as is the object of his love from him.

In the moment we're born, we're drawn to form a union with others. An abiding drive to connect, to love, to belong. In a perfect union, we find the strength we cannot find in ourselves. But the strength of the union cannot be known until it is tested.

To properly do penance one must express contrition for one’s sins and perform acts to repair the damage caused by those transgressions. It is only when those acts are complete that the slate can truly be wiped clean and amnesty gives way to a new beginning.

For the innocent, the past may hold a reward, but for the treacherous it's only a matter of time before the past delivers what they truly deserve.

When at a crossroads, my father was fond of saying “go with your gut.” “Intuition,” he said, “always has our best interests at heart.” It is a voice that can tell us who is friend and who is foe…Which ones to hold at arm’s length…And which ones to keep close. But too often, we become distracted by fear, doubt, our own stubborn hopes, and refuse to listen.

Darkness scares us. We yearn for the comfort of light as it provides shape and form, allowing us to recognize and define what's before us. But what is it we're afraid of really? Not the darkness itself, but the truth we know hides within.

Sacrifice demands the surrender of things we cherish above all else. Only out of the agony of those loses can a new resolution be born. An undying devotion to a cause greater than one’s self, and a moral duty to see a journey through to its absolute completion.

Revenge is a dish best served cold. It means they forget you're coming for them, and their screams sound so much prettier when the time finally comes.

In its purest form, a union becomes part of our very essence. And when that bond is broken, our essence is forever changed.

For the average person leading an ordinary life, fame holds an hypnotic attraction. Many would sooner perish than exist in anonymity. But for the unlucky few who've had notoriety forced upon them, infamy can be a sentence more damning than any prison term

Absolution is the most powerful form of forgiveness. A full pardon from suspicion and accountability. It's the liberation of a stolen future. A future my father never lived to see. Absolution is a mercy the people who killed him will never know.

Power...Born out of nature, Coveted by men; Wars rage on, And victors are crowned. But true power can never be lost or won. True power comes from within.

Destiny. To believe that a life is meant for a single purpose, one must also believe in a common fate. Father to daughter, brother to sister, mother to child. Blood ties can be as unyielding as they are eternal. But it is our bonds of choice that truly light the road we travel. Love versus hatred. Loyalty against betrayal. A person's true destiny can only be revealed at the end of his journey, and the story I have to tell is far from over.

Like life, revenge can be a messy business... And both would be much simpler if only our heads could figure out which way our hearts will go. But the heart has its reasons, of which reason cannot know.

They say vengeance taken will tear the heart and torment the conscious. If there's any truth to it, then I now know with certainty that the path I'm on is the right one.

Clarence Darrow, one of history's greatest lawyers, once noted "There is no such thing as justice, in or out of court." Perhaps because justice is a flawed concept that ultimately comes down to the decision of twelve people. People with their own experiences, prejudices, feelings about what defines right and wrong. Which is why, when the system fails us, we must go out and seek our own justice.

All too often, we mask truth in artifice, concealing ourselves for fear of losing the ones we love or prolonging a deception for those we wish to expose. We hide behind that which brings us comfort from pain and sadness or use it to repel a truth too devastating to accept.

Sacrifice by its strictest definition takes something precious in exchange for the appeasement of a higher power. And abiding devotion to a cause that cannot be satisfied with a simple promise. Because an oath no matter how solemn asks nothing in return. While true sacrifice demands unspeakable loss.

Absolution is the washing away of sin. The promise of rebirth. And the chance to escape the transgressions of those who came before us. The best among us will learn from the mistakes of the past, while the rest seem doomed to repeat them. And then there are those who operate on the fringes of society, unburdened by the confines of morality and conscience. A ruthless breed of monsters whose deadliest weapon is their ability to hide in plain sight. If the people I've come to bring justice to cannot be bound by the quest for absolution, then neither will I.

A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not why ships were built.

Some say that to believe in destiny is to dismiss the role of free will. That self-determination cannot prevail in the presence of fate. When the truth is, the only part of destiny we can control is the fate we choose for another.

When everything you love has been stolen from you, sometimes all you have left is revenge.Sometimes, the innocent get hurt. But one by one, the guilty will pay. Nothing ever goes exactly as you expect. And mistakes are life and death. Collateral damage is inescapable.

•Engagement can be a commitment to love or a declaration of war. One must enter every battle without hesitation, willing to fully engage the enemy until death do you apart.

A person's true identity can often be difficult to discern, even to themselves, causing one to question their character, their calling, their very existence. For most, time gives clarity, but for others, these questions remained unanswered for an identity can not be fully defined when it is a guarded secret.

Just as there are two sides to every story, there are two sides to every person. One that we reveal to the world and another we keep hidden inside. A duality governed by the balance of light and darkness. Within each of us is the capacity for both good and evil. But those of us who are able to blur the moral dividing line hold the true power.

Penance is a sacrifice, a voluntary punishment to show remorse for a sin. The more grievous the sin, the greater the self-inflicted suffering. For some, the ultimate penance is death. But for others, it simply a means to an end.

For those who believe in the resurrection, death is inconsequential. In the resurrection, those that were dead live, and those who live believe they shall never die.

Duress impacts relationships in one of two ways. It either tears people apart... binding them tightly in a common objective.

Every human is born of collusion. We come into this world the result of a covenant. Sometimes made of love. Sometimes of circumstance. But almost always made in secret.

They say the best laid plans often go a lie, Because no matter how detailed the preparation, A plan will always have a weak point and there will always be those looking to exploit it. To do into the plan failure and the perpetrator along with it.

No, enjoy it while you can.” Esther said as she walked out alone.

and still I stayed to plan all my revenge, my vengeance against those who had turned me from good to evil, and made of me what I was going to be from this day forward.

Defence lawyers use the term "duress" to describe the use of force, coercion or psychological pressure exerted on a client in the commission of a crime. When duress is applied to the emotionally unstable the result can be as violent as it is unpredictable.

I always wanted revenge against the rebels responsible for the destruction of my life and the upheaval of the world—even as I found the actions of my own regime to be worse than despicable. I aligned myself with what I believed to be the lesser of two evils, trusting that no government could be trusted.

To successfully create illusion, the first thing you need is trust, but to perfect an illusion, the false reality most appear as authentic as the one it hides. Careful attention must be paid to every detail. The slightest of imperfections can, like a pin to a balloon, burst the illusion . . . and the truth behind the illusion becomes revealed.

When I was a little girl my understanding of revenge was as simple as the Sunday school proverbs it hid behind. Neat little morality slogans like, do un to others and two wrongs don't make a right. But two wrongs can never make a right because; two wrongs can never equal each other. For the truly wronged real satisfaction can only be found in one of two places, absolute forgiveness or mortal vindication. This is not a story about forgiveness.

They say the best laid plans often go a lie. Because no matter how detailed the preparation, a plan will always have a weak point and there will always be those looking to exploit it. To do into the plan failure and the perpetrator along with it.

Revelations help us accept the things we need the most, expose the secrets we so desperately try to hide and illuminate the dangers all around us. But more than anything, revelations are windows into our true selves... of the good and the evil and those wavering somewhere in between. But they have the ultimate power to destroy all that we cherish most.

Revenge is a dish best served cold... Now that I agree with. It means they forget you're coming for them, and their screams sound so much prettier when the time finally comes.

You could make any man forget his years. When I saw you arrive in your lovely dress, I was conquered. If you don’t wish to dance anymore perhaps we could chat?” - David Walton

It means no telling any of your horrible scary stories. Do not start a food fight and do not get any of your bright ideas. Got it?

Trust me, doll. God doesn’t want to see what I’m about to do to you.

It is not our place to take revenge, but rather to leave it to the Almighty.

*waves hello*

I certainly don’t have any interest in being on a dark veranda with any man except my husband, unlike some women do.” - Esther Norman

I don't want power. I just want things back the way they were, back to the good old days when we didn't have to be polite to Nazis.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Don't get caught," Ava replied.

Geraldine sighed, taking it all in.

Geraldine, don't do it," I said.

she takes no rest from revenge

Then out of the dust and sand came the crabs, unharmed and infuriated, scuttling forward in search of revenge!

Summer continued. "My older sister was a Junior Silver Rose. She told me that it's tradition that the pledges pull a prank on Mrs. Armstrong the night of the retreat. She only lives two blocks from here. We think you should do it. It will help restore your standing with us.

Narcissistic fathers leave their daughters with deep doubts about whether a man can love them, since the first important man in their life was so in love with himself that he had no love left for them. If you are a daughter of a narcissistic father you may have withdrawn from men and bound yourself to mother, either overtly or emotionally. Or you may be engaged in a self-destructive attempt to be his kind of girl, whatever that is, as you try desperately to extract his love. Perhaps you have transferred this into a masochistic position with other men, finding a narcissistic man incredibly attractive as you try to master the mystery of winning his love. And narcissistic men appeal to you because you wish you could be that way yourself - assertive, not giving a damn, self-important - but you lack the confidence to do it yourself so you identify with the man who has their quality, even if it's at your expense. (I have often seen this revealed in those instances where a woman has suffered through a degradingly submissive and abusing relationship with a man, or a series of men, and then, gaining the strength to break that kind of bondage, violently overturns the tables and abuses that man, or the next man in her life, as degradingly as she was misused. It's not just revenge, but the release of hidden desire to be powerful and to be able to control father and make him beg for her love.)

The last five years had been a series of carefully orchestrated events. Every move, every strategy had been poured over in painstaking detail before it was set into motion. Pieces on a chess board. A collision of fate and circumstance. I’d planned for every hitch. Every contingency. Except the one that blindsided me like a vat of acid to the face. I fell in love with her.

The freest people, like the freest man, is always in danger of re-lapsing into servitude. Wars are almost always fatal to Republics. They create tyrants, and consolidate their power. They spring, for the most part, from evil counsels. When the small and the base are intrusted with power, legislation and administration become but two parallel series of errors and blunders, ending in war, calamity, and the necessity for a tyrant. When the nation feels its feet sliding backward, as if it walked on the ice, the time has come for a supreme effort. The magnificent tyrants of the past are but the types of those of the future. Men and nations will always sell themselves into slavery, to gratify their passions and obtain revenge. The tyrant's plea, necessity, is always available; and the tyrant once in power, the necessity of providing for his safety makes him savage. Religion is a power, and he must control that. Independent, its sanctuaries might rebel. Then it becomes unlawful for the people to worship God in their own way, and the old spiritual despotisms revive.

I’m more than a piece of arm candy at church on Sundays and holidays. I have just as much to offer the family business as any of the guys sitting in this classroom.

She shook off her tremors and stared up at the ivory disk of the moon. She wouldn't stop either. She wanted her kingdom back. She wanted justice. She wanted revenge.

And then what seemed to Gameknight like the most beautiful thing in the world happened. Heavily armed cavalry smashed through the spider formation, crushing the monsters

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

You are the belle of the ball tonight.” He said as he moved in closer. “How can you be so sinfully beautiful Mrs. Norman?

Mary Frost sure looks fabulous tonight.” He murmured. “Your husband seems to have a crush on her.

She knew what the laugh implied, and it angered her. “Mrs. Wells don’t you be getting any ideas about my husband.

Revenge is sweet, but icecream is sweeter" - Folk of the air

I can't believe you," I told Ava once Carter was out of the room. "You're failing math on purpose just to get tutored by a cute boy. Do you have any idea how pathetic that is?

No woman in the history of humanity has ever found a comfortable way of dressing herself after sex.

Loving you will never bring me peace.’ ‘Good. Then love me harder and suffer more.

She had to die to remember who she was. Now she’s done playing dead. O.C. Sterling, Playing Dead (The Revenant Series)

Sometimes losing the battle means winning the war. You have to know when to stay and fight and when it’s smarter to retreat and live to fight another day.

Are you going to do it or not?" Summer asked impatiently. "Because if you're not, any other girl in this room would love to take your place." Summer looked around the room. "Who'd like to do it instead?" Everyone's hands shot up except for mine and Amber's. "No, I'll do it," Geraldine said confidently. "What's the prank?" That might have been a good question to ask before committing to it.

revenge is,” as Lord Bacon says, “a kind of wild justice,” and is easily satisfied. The hearts desire upon such a one’s enemies is best met and granted when the hate is changed into love and compassion.

Instead of trotting out the usual bland platitudes about the secrets of success and happiness, he provided an inspired illustration of how to apply the principle of inversion. He gave the students a series of “prescriptions for guaranteed misery in life,” recommending that they should be unreliable, avoid compromise, harbor resentments, seek revenge, indulge in envy, “ingest chemicals,” become addicted to alcohol, neglect to “learn vicariously from the good and bad experience of others,” cling defiantly to their existing beliefs, and “stay down” when struck by the “first, second, or third severe reverse in the battle of life.

The rider uses a technique, breaking the neck cleanly, so there is no suffering. That is why it is important not to allow it to be personal if at all possible. You always want the visit to be about justice, not revenge.

I never set out to bash men, it is not about revenge, I always say at the end of a relationship that i hope that i have created a better man for the next woman by what i allowed and reinforced Crystal Evans The Bunna Man

What are you guys doing?" Carter asked once we were so close, we couldn't get any closer. "Uh, I wanted to move closer so I can hear you better," I said. "I moved closer because I like the way you smell," Ava said boldly.

Summer hugged her knees to her chest. "Every year they pull the same pranks, they either egg or t.p. Armstrong's house. She's expecting it. This year we need to do something special, something that's going to make history." "W-what's that?" Geraldine stammered. Hannah pulled a heavy plastic bag from her duffle. "You're going to spray paint her lawn silver." "That's going to make her really mad and she already doesn't like me," Geraldine said.

I don’t get on my knees for any man.” I release him and spin on my heel, adding a little extra sashay to my ass as I leave. Chapter Ten Marcelo The bang on my door wakes me from a deep sleep and I roll over, but too much, apparently because I fall to the fucking floor.

Go to Zillicks down the block. It has three booths at the back. Go in the middle one and wait. When you lamp me turning the pages of the directory outside, shove your money in the return-coin slot and walk out. Take it easy. Don't let the druggist see you. Your stuff'll be there when you go back for it. If you're even a dime short don't show up, it won't do ya no good. Twelve o'clock tonight.' 'Twelve o'clock;' Fisher agreed. They separated. How many a seemingly casual street-corner conversation like that on the city's streets has just such an unguessed, sinister topic. Murder, theft, revenge, narcotics. While the crowd goes by around it unaware. ("I'm Dangerous Tonight")

But if you find that your anger hasn’t passed away in a reasonable amount of time or if weeks, months, or years after the hurtful event you are still ruminating over the injury, plotting revenge, or feeling the same level of pain, your anger has probably turned into a smoldering resentment. You are a prime candidate for choosing the forgiveness process.

Instead of engaging in meaningless conversation and attempting to find out who Justice was, Daniel tapped into his brain and searched for his vampire memories. He saw various iterations of him torturing Carla, and then a scene of Carla and Drew getting revenge, George Washington Carver style, all before Justice could get a piece of buttered toast in his mouth.

A half century later, La Violencia bred a new colorful menagerie of outlaws, men who went by names like Tarzan, Desquite (Revenge), Tirofijo (Sureshot), Sangrenegra (Blackblood), and Chispas (Sparks). They roamed the countryside, robbing, pillaging, raping, and killing, but because they were allied with none of the major factions, their crimes were seen by many common people as blows struck against power.

Everybody has a function, everybody in a slasher cycle has a role—isn’t that a line from the Bible, even? Not the over-the-top violent one Craven and Carpenter wrote, with all the massacres and gore, but the other violent one with all the massacres and gore. The one where revenge comes not in a hulking shape lurking at the edge of the light but as a series of plagues that starts out feeling random, come to feel a lot more like justice, like the scales rebalancing. Same thing, different church.

The character and the play of Hamlet are central to any discussion of Shakespeare's work. Hamlet has been described as melancholic and neurotic, as having an Oedipus complex, as being a failure and indecisive, as well as being a hero, and a perfect Renaissance prince. These judgements serve perhaps only to show how many interpretations of one character may be put forward. 'To be or not to be' is the centre of Hamlet's questioning. Reasons not to go on living outnumber reasons for living. But he goes on living, until he completes his revenge for his father's murder, and becomes 'most royal', the true 'Prince of Denmark' (which is the play's subtitle), in many ways the perfection of Renaissance man. Hamlet's progress is a 'struggle of becoming' - of coming to terms with life, and learning to accept it, with all its drawbacks and challenges. He discusses the problems he faces directly with the audience, in a series of seven soliloquies - of which 'To be or not to be' is the fourth and central one. These seven steps, from the zero-point of a desire not to live, to complete awareness and acceptance (as he says, 'the readiness is all'), give a structure to the play, making the progress all the more tragic, as Hamlet reaches his aim, the perfection of his life, only to die.

Inside, there was a bed, and upon the bed there was a woman. More beautiful was she even than the damask rose while her scent, drifting through the open window, was that of the night dew. Her hair was silken as the raven's wing. Quite naked, she lay, so still upon the bed, her eyes closed in reverie. The young man looked first upon her breasts, where her hand rested. And upon each breast, there was a rosebud nipple. Upon each nipple there was a tip most tender. Upon each tip there was a milky drop. Chin lifted, lips parted, she milked her maiden breast. 'What I would give to suckle at that teat,' thought he. from 'Against Faithlessness' in Cautionary Tales

The sun goes down and it's night-time in New Orleans. The moon rises, midnight chimes from St. Louis cathedral, and hardly has the last note died away than a gruesome swampland whistle sounds outside the deathly still house. A fat Negress, basket on arm, comes trudging up the stairs a moment later, opens the door, goes in to the papaloi, closes it again, traces an invisible mark on it with her forefinger and kisses it. Then she turns and her eyes widen with surprise. Papa Benjamin is in bed, covered up to the neck with filthy rags. The familiar candles are all lit, the bowl for the blood, the sacrificial knife, the magic powders, all the paraphernalia of the ritual are laid out in readiness, but they are ranged about the bed instead of at the opposite end of the room as usual. The old man's head, however, is held high above the encumbering rags, his beady eyes gaze back at her unflinchingly, the familiar semicircle of white wool rings his crown, his ceremonial mask is at his side. 'I am a little tired, my daughter,' he tells her. His eyes stray to the tiny wax image of Eddie Bloch under the candles, hairy with pins, and hers follow them. 'A doomed one, nearing his end, came here last night thinking I could be killed like other men. He shot a bullet from a gun at me. I blew my breath at it, it stopped in the air, turned around, and went back in the gun again. But it tired me to blow so hard, strained my voice a little.' A revengeful gleam lights up the woman's broad face. 'And he'll die soon, papaloi?' 'Soon,' cackles the weazened figure in the bed. The woman gnashes her teeth and hugs herself delightedly. ("Papa Benjamin" aka "Dark Melody Of Madness")

Despite such experiences Houdini never developed what we think of as a political consciousness. He could not reason from his own hurt feelings. To the end he would be almost totally unaware of the design of his career, the great map of revolution laid out by his life. He was a Jew. His real name was Erich Weiss. He was passionately in love with his ancient mother whom he had installed in his brownstone home on West 113th Street. In fact Sigmund Freud had just arrived in America to give a series of lectures at Clark University in Worcester, Massachusetts, and so Houdini was destined to be, with Al Jolson, the last of the great shameless mother lovers, a nineteenth-century movement that included such men as Poe, John Brown, Lincoln, and James McNeill Whistler. Of course Freud's immediate reception in America was not auspicious. A few professional alienists understood his importance, but to most of the public he appeared as some kind of German sexologist, an exponent of free love who used big words to talk about dirty things. At least a decade would have to pass before Freud would have his revenge and see his ideas begin to destroy sex in America for ever.

I couldn’t wait to follow through. I couldn’t wait to end this. “Your revenge?” Matthias laughed. “You’re revenge? What could you possibly do that would make any difference to me?” I looked up at Kane and he looked down at me. I smiled at him sweetly and he smiled back. I leaned in and he mirrored me. I tilted my face up to kiss him and he gladly reciprocated. Then I pulled back and swiveled my gaze to Matthias. “I will take your family away. Just like you took mine. I will pluck them from you one by one and make them suffer until they beg for death. Or, I will simply rescue them and give them a better life than you ever could.” Matthias barked out a louder laugh. “That’s sweet. It sounds like you’ve put thought into all that, but you can’t. It’s just not possible. “Sure it is,” I told him. “I’ve already gotten two of your children. Tyler isn’t here.” I gestured at Tyler. “Tyler will never be here. Unless you count that. Which being a self-respecting person, I wouldn’t. But who knows about you. And Miller isn’t here either. Miller is worse than Tyler. Look! You got Tyler to come to breakfast, but I seem to have forgotten Miller’s excuse. Could you remind me?” He stayed quiet. Which was a miracle in itself. So I continued, “I’m waiting for the right opportunity for Linley. I’ve been waiting for it for a while now. I’ve been watching her and watching her and just waiting. I cannot wait until I get her alone. I cannot wait until it’s just the two of us. It will be so fun. It’s what helps get me through these long days. Just thoughts of Linley. Just thoughts of what I will do to her and how slowly I will make those last painful moments last. And Kane? I could take him in a second. I could rip him out of your hands so fast you would blink and he would be gone. He might deny that if you ask him. But I know better. I hear everything else he says. I feel everything else he means. Kane is mine. You’re a smart man, Matthias, so don’t think for a second he isn’t. Right?” I turned to Kane. He leaned down again and kissed me. Point proved. I relaxed into Kane and let my threats soothe my soul and settle over the man I wanted to watch burn in hell. His reply was an arrogant smirk and hard eyes. “Little girl, you just asked for trouble, I’m-” “Do it,” I hissed. “Do whatever it is you want to do and see if I’m bluffing. Try me! Hurt someone I love. Hurt me. Take something away from me and see how painfully and how permanently I take something away from you.” I stood up and pushed aggressively away from the table. I stared him down the entire time. Kane let me go without even an attempt to restrain me. I was beyond that. I was beyond all of this. I was leaving. Today. Because without a doubt I would follow through with every single one of my threats. I stomped from the warehouse. I could feel Kane behind me, but he still didn’t try to slow me down. And I knew he wouldn’t. He really was mine. Matthias, Hendrix, nobody could take him from me. And he would do whatever I wanted as long as he thought we could survive. I hoped both of us could survive what I was about to ask him to do.

Throughout history, there have been many wars fought for many different reasons. Some reasons are very serious, like politics, power, economics, or just revenge. Some reasons are as simple as a difference in opinion or just not liking each other. Then there are reasons that are so stupid you wonder what was going through the minds of people at the time. According to “The Vintage News,” the “War of the Bucket” was fought between two Italian city-states, Bologna and Modena, in 1325. To fully understand why two city-states went to war over a bucket, you need to understand the history behind it. From the 12th to the 14th century, the different powers of Europe fought a series of wars, which are known as the Guelph and Ghibelline Wars. During that time, the two Italian city-states of Modena and Bologna both took opposing sides. In 1325, a group of soldiers from Modena snuck into the city of Bologna and stole a bucket from the city’s central well. It wasn’t the fact that they stole the bucket that angered the people of Bologna. They were angered by the fact that their enemies were able to sneak into their city undetected and steal something. They saw it as dishonorable and demanded the return of their bucket. Modena refused to do so. At this point, both of them should have realized that a fight over a bucket was a bit silly, but they didn’t. Bologna mobilized its forces, and so did Modena. Modena was severely outnumbered during the war, and the Bolognese had the high ground. Even with these circumstances, Modena still managed to win the war and steal a second bucket from the city for good measure. This is a funny tale, but let’s not forget that 2,000 people died in this war and the Modenese soldiers destroyed most of the city of Bologna in the process. They even destroyed a sluice on the local river so that the Bolognese had no need for a bucket because they couldn’t get water anymore.

Geraldine nodded and headed for Mrs. Armstrong's lawn. I felt sorry for her in her carrot pajamas, having no idea what was really going on. I followed the other girls and stood behind the shrubs. Mrs. Armstrong's house was ginormous. Her house was even bigger than Aunt Jeanie's. There was one light on upstairs. I figured that was the bedroom. The rest of the house was dark. Geraldine went to the far end of the yard and removed a can of spray paint from the bag. She shook it and began to spray. "She's such an idiot," Ava said, taking out her phone to record Geraldine's act of vandalism. "You guys are going to get her into so much trouble," I said. "So what?" Hannah replied. "She got us in trouble at the soup kitchen, it's not like she's ever going to become a Silver Rose anyway. She's totally wasting her time." Geraldine slowly made her way up and down the huge yard carefully spraying the grass. It would take her forever to complete it and there wasn't nearly enough spray paint. "Hey, guys!" Geraldine yelled from across the lawn. "How about I spray a rose in the grass? That would be cool, right?" I cringed. The light on upstairs meant the Armstrongs were still awake. Geraldine was about to get us all caught. "O-M-G," Hannah moaned. "Shhhh," Summer hissed, but Geraldine kept screaming at the top of her lungs. "Well, what do you guys think?" My heart dropped into my stomach as a light from downstairs clicked on. We ducked behind the hedges and froze. "Who's out there?" called a man's voice. I couldn't see him and I couldn't see Geraldine. I heard the door close and I peeked over the hedges. "He went back inside," I whispered, ducking back down. At that moment something went shk-shk-shk and Geraldine screamed. We all stood to see what was happening. Someone had turned the sprinklers on and Geraldine was getting soaked. The door flew open and I heard Mrs. Armstrong's voice followed by a dog's vicious barking. "Get 'em, Killer!" "Killer!" Ava screamed and we all took off running down the street with a soggy Geraldine trailing behind us. I was faster than all the other girls. I had no intentions of being gobbled up by a dog named Killer. We stopped running when we got to Ava's street and Killer was nowhere in sight. We walked back to the house at a normal pace. "So, did I prove myself to the sisterhood?" Geraldine asked. Hannah turned to her. "Are you kidding me? Your yelling woke them up, you moron. We got chased down the street by a dog because of you." Geraldine frowned and looked down at the ground. Hopefully what I had told her before about the girls not being her friends was starting to settle in. Inside all the other girls wanted to know what had happened. Ava was giving them the gory details when a knock on the door interrupted her. It was Mrs. Armstrong. She had on a black bathrobe and her hair was in curlers. I chuckled to myself because I was used to seeing her look absolutely perfect. We all sat on our sleeping bags looking as innocent as possible except for Geraldine who still stood awkwardly by the door, dripping wet. Mrs. Armstrong cleared her throat. "Someone has just vandalized my lawn with spray paint. Silver spray paint. Since I know it's a tradition for the Silver Roses to pull a prank on me on the night of the retreat, I'm going to assume it was one of you. More specifically, the one who's soaking wet right now." All eyes went to Geraldine. She looked at the ground and said nothing. What could she possibly say to defend herself? She even had silver spray paint on her fingers. Mrs. Armstrong looked her up and down. "Young lady, this is your second strike and that's two strikes too many. Your bid to become a Junior Silver Rose is for the second time hereby revoked." Geraldine's shoulders drooped, but most of the girls were smirking. This had been their plan all along and they had accomplished it.

Between the extreme limits of this series would find a place all the forms of prestige resulting from the different elements composing a civilisation -- sciences, arts, literature, &c. -- and it would be seen that prestige constitutes the fundamental element of persuasion. Consciously or not, the being, the idea, or the thing possessing prestige is immediately imitated in consequence of contagion, and forces an entire generation to adopt certain modes of feeling and of giving expression to its thought. This imitation, moreover, is, as a rule, unconscious, which accounts for the fact that it is perfect. The modern painters who copy the pale colouring and the stiff attitudes of some of the Primitives are scarcely alive to the source of their inspiration. They believe in their own sincerity, whereas, if an eminent master had not revived this form of art, people would have continued blind to all but its naïve and inferior sides. Those artists who, after the manner of another illustrious master, inundate their canvasses with violet shades do not see in nature more violet than was detected there fifty years ago; but they are influenced, "suggestioned," by the personal and special impressions of a painter who, in spite of this eccentricity, was successful in acquiring great prestige. Similar examples might be brought forward in connection with all the elements of civilisation. It is seen from what precedes that a number of factors may be concerned in the genesis of prestige; among them success was always one of the most important. Every successful man, every idea that forces itself into recognition, ceases, ipso facto, to be called in question. The proof that success is one of the principal stepping-stones to prestige is that the disappearance of the one is almost always followed by the disappearance of the other. The hero whom the crowd acclaimed yesterday is insulted to-day should he have been overtaken by failure. The re-action, indeed, will be the stronger in proportion as the prestige has been great. The crowd in this case considers the fallen hero as an equal, and takes its revenge for having bowed to a superiority whose existence it no longer admits.

Blackbeard the pirate was actually Edward Teach sometimes known as Edward Thatch, who lived from 1680 until his death on November 22, 1718. Blackbeard was a notorious English pirate who sailed around the eastern coast of North America. Although little is known about his childhood he may have worked as an apprentice on an English ship, during the second phase in a series of wars between the French and the English from 1754 and ended in 1778 as part of the American Revolutionary War. The war had different names depending on where it was fought. In the American colonies the war was known as the French and Indian War. During the time it was fought during the reign of Anne, Queen of Great Britain, it was called Queen Anne's War and in Europe it was known as the War of the Spanish Succession. During the earlier period of hostilities between France and England, some English ships were granted permission to raid French colonies and French ships and were considered privateers. Captain Benjamin Hornigold, whose crew Teach joined around 1716 operated from the Bahamian island of New Providence. Captain Hornigold placed Teach in command of a sloop that he had captured and during this time he was given the name Blackbeard. Horngold and Blackbeard sailing out of New Providence engaged in numerous acts of piracy. Their numbers were boosted by the addition of other captured ships. Blackbeard captured a French slave ship known as La Concorde and renamed her Queen Anne's Revenge. He renamed it “Queen Anne's Revenge” referring to Anne, Queen of England and Scotland returning to the throne of Great Britain. He equipped his new acquisition with 40 guns, and a crew of over 300 men. Becoming a world renowned pirate, most people feared him. In a failed attempt to run a blockade in place and refusing the governors pardon, he ran “Queen Anne's Revenge” aground on a sandbar near Beaufort, North Carolina and settled in North Carolina where he then accepted a royal pardon. The wreck of “Queen Anne's Revenge” was found in 1996 by private salvagers, Intersal Inc., a salvage company based in Palm Bay, Florida Not knowing when enough, he returned to plundering at sea. Alexander Spotswood, the Governor of Virginia formed a garrison of soldiers and sailors to protect the colony and if possible capture Blackbeard. On November 22, 1718 following a ferocious battle, Blackbeard and several of his crew were killed by a small force of sailors led by Lieutenant Robert Maynard. After his death, Blackbeard became a martyr and an inspiration for a number of fictitious books.

I see what you're talking about, Bex," Ms. Larson said. "Your aunt is something else. I'd hate to have to live with her." I shrugged. "I mean she seems like she's just evil, like the wicked stepmother in Cinderella." "She's not as bad as that," I muttered. "I think she might be worse. She's mean and stuck-up and overbearing and—" "Hey!" I shouted. "You can't talk about my aunt like that!" Ms. Larson frowned. "Why not? You do." "I know, but that's different, it—" "Aww, come on, Bex. She's awful. Admit it.

(Ray): Bratty little sister extraordinaire

Carter

Excuse me," said a deep voice.

I can't believe you," I told Ava once Carter was out of the room. "You're failing math on purpose just to get tutored by a cute boy.

he's very nice and very rich.

heard a moan behind me. I turned to see Geraldine with her tongue stuck to the ice sculpture, right on the lady's armpit. It was not a pretty sight. I tried to edge away and pretend like I didn't see it, but it was too late. I heard someone gasp. "What on earth?" A woman ran over to Geraldine and began scolding her. I assumed she was her mother. "Oh, dear," said Mrs. Armstrong. "Will someone bring a cup of warm water?" Everyone stopped talking and gathered around to watch the fool who had her tongue stuck to the ice sculpture.

And when it gets dark, they could use the M4.

Life lesson from Bex: Be a real friend. Being a fake friend is totally lame.

It involved traveling to Moscow, something Dan didn’t relish, especially with the current regime and the war in Ukraine. The President had become more dictatorial since the war had started, and not gone so well.

girl

Margaret

Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand. Blood and revenge are hammering in my head, so sayeth Titus Andronicus,” she said, shaking her fist at him. “Next time, you die.

Over the decades, the slogans of the young changed, like the seven stages of grief – except they were nowhere close to acceptance. It seemed as though it took everything to get to anger and bargaining, so depression was as far as anyone could get. First it was the armor of irony: YOU DROWNED SANTA CLAUS I MISS FISH Then the anger and the threats: WATER IS NOT FOR PROFIT WHEN DID YOU KNOW MONEY WASN'T ENOUGH? As the decades progressed, revenge took over: NO FOOD NO MERCY BEG AND WE MAY NOT KILL YOU BEG AND WE MAY NOT EAT YOU The most popular was the simplest. Two words. It was everywhere – physical and virtual graffiti, songs and movies, hacks on phones and computers, chants at public events, clothing, even on their bodies. It was a popular tattoo. Some even had it inked – scarred – into their foreheads so anyone looking at them would see it. Turning away was impossible: YOU KNEW

Resentment is here to tell you that you must love yourself and value your peace of mind more than anything else. Your peace of mind must become more important than being right, taking revenge, or hating someone else.

He’d played a nasty prank on Jacob earlier that day. Jacob couldn’t remember it now. He’d crept up carefully and spun around, feeling the fart rising in his belly. Paul had glanced up from his comic casually. He had no idea what was about to happen. Jacob had sat on his brother’s thigh and let one rip. It had been loud and wet, echoing through the house with a big poot. He’d gotten his ass kicked hard for that one, but he’d ended the beating with a smile, knowing Paul could never exact a proper revenge.

functional logic can be applied to other moral emotions. Anger toward cheaters likely evolved to punish those who violate social contracts. Anger toward cheaters motivates revenge, which in turn deters others from cheating in the future. And revenge might be an emotion that is sweetly savored. In an interesting series of studies, participants rated a variety of different endings to Hollywood film clips that portrayed a serious injustice (Haidt & Sabini, 2000). Participants were displeased by endings in which the victim of an injustice accepted the loss, forgave the transgressor, and found growth and fulfillment. They were most satisfied by endings in which the perpetrator of the injustice suffered greatly, knew that the suffering was retribution for the transgression, and experienced public humiliation in the process. In short, the moral outrage that people experience at cheating and violations of social contracts evolved to serve a policing function, holding others to their commitments and obligations.

brilliant assassination plot is already underway. And the final element is trapped amid the firestorm of a civil war in Myanmar.

Marishca, Lily-Rose, and Chirpy were the best friends

In that tool kit is a little dark brown glass jar. Give Cody half a spoonful,” I tell Brett. He gives his friend half a spoonful. When the laudanum hits his system, I feel Cody relax. It’s time to try again with the pliers. This time the arrowhead comes out. I carefully work it out of the wound channel trying not to cut any extra muscle. Using the tweezers, I pull threads of his shirt from the wound. Satisfied it is as clean as I can get it, I’m ready to sew it closed. I dip the needle in the cup of rot gut, then submerge the clump of horsehair in the whiskey. Satisfied it is no longer dirty, I thread a needle with a long strand of horsehair. I begin sewing the cut closed. Before closing it completely I add half a little finger’s width of the clean horsehair into the wound channel. The horsehair will act as a drain, in case the wound needs to drain. I sew the wound close and wash the outside. I cover the wound with a clean strip of his shirt. I can remove the horsehair drain within ten days.

Resentment is here to tell you that you must love yourself and value your peace of mind more than anything else. Your peace of mind must become more important than being right, taking revenge, or hating someone else. In short, moving beyond resentment is making a declaration of love to yourself so you can move on, while, at the same time, showing compassion to others.

Everything happens when it needs to happen; everyone is always where they need to be. You will never miss out on what is meant for you, even if it has to come to you in a roundabout way.” ― Iyanla Vanzant ― “The world needs less heat and more light. It needs less of the heat of anger, revenge, retaliation, and more of the light of ideas, faith, courage, aspiration, joy, love, and hope.” ― Wilferd Peterson ― “A

This time the thought was so powerful, he couldn’t even question it. Without a second thought, he leaped out from the wall just ahead of the elevator car.

Resentment: Understanding that your peace of mind is more important than taking revenge, Developing the courage to share your feelings with other people (instead of building up resentment), and Learning not to take anything personally (what people do to you often has nothing to do with you).

Pao would have even less luck in her next job at Reddit, the online comment network where she was ousted as interim chief executive only a few months after she lost the Kleiner Perkins trial. During her Reddit tenure, Pao was attacked relentlessly for trying to remove revenge porn and all other manner of racist and misogynistic hate speech (the classics!). In that “controversy,” she was subject to a truly heinous series of attacks on her personally by Reddit users, which veered into violent threats. What started out as small became global and huge, as do most attacks on the Internet against women, which quickly become a swarm of hate.

I like to serve my revenge on permafrost.

There is no redemption," he continued, pulling his hand from mine. "Only revenge." "Sound like a very lonely way to live." "Yes." He said it like he deserved such an existence.

Beeex," she whined. "Look, you don't really have to fight her, just act like you're going to. When she sees you, she'll run in the other direction." "Why would that be, Ava? I'm not exactly intimidating," I pointed out. "Because you're huge, that's why!" What was I, a Godzilla-Sumo-Wrestling-Amazon-Woman? "Nope, sorry," I told her.

I planned to spend the day vegging out and watching some good action movies when Aunt Jeanie had to ruin my plans as usual. Just when I had gotten comfortable in my beanbag chair with a bag of Twizzlers, she burst into the bedroom without even knocking. "Aunt Jeanie, I'd appreciate it if you would at least knock," I told her as sweetly as possible. "Bex, this is my house. When you get your own house and pay the mortgage, you can make the rules." I sighed and focused on the television, hoping she would go away, but she wouldn't. "So, have you decided on a service project?" "Yes, but Mrs. Armstrong denied it," I answered. I thought my cupcake idea was great. Cupcakes make people happy and wasn't that the point? "Good. This afternoon some of the girls are going down to the soup kitchen to make bagged lunches for the women and children's shelter. Be ready in a little bit." I loved the way she asked whether or not I'd actually like to do it. "All right.

COMMAND BLOCKS

It was perfect. Just right. Just what the raging, frothing she-demon inside her needed. The demon that had driven the stupid argument between them and nothing short of his possession was going to drive her out. Revenge sex had taught Juliet that it wasn’t possible to screw the angry out, but if anyone could, it was Ryder. She moved restlessly against him as he held himself high inside her. “Again,” she demanded. “More.” “Christ.” His breath was hot on her neck, his voice strained and clearly pissed off. “You’re so fucking bossy.

Now saddle up and lead on, for revenge and the glory of the South.

friends after Kristen

offend her,

The best revenge in life is living.

Stop moping and think of a solution. A voice in his head told him. If you want to find your mojo again, then get on with it and stop wallowing in self-pity. This voice spoke the harsh truth. He needed to man-up. Nodding, Mortimer set his face in a line of steely determination, created a pile of papers and began to draft down possible ideas. Mass suicide? Too messy. Global war? Too soon. Revenge cult? Too predictable. NO.

First impressions are so important. I don't want you sticking out like a sore thumb." In other words, don't embarrass her.

Oh my," she said, feigning innocent. She fanned a hand over her face. "Revenge is so sweet!

The bitch had my daughter and my baby daddy. She’d turned them both against me. She’d gotten the ultimate revenge.

Justice lay on the edge o his blessed sword, but revenge - sweet as candy - filled his senses." The Bow of Destiny

series Weekend Warriors (2003) (Amazon) Payback (2004) (Amazon) Vendetta (2005) (Amazon) The Jury (2005) (Amazon) Sweet Revenge (2006) (Amazon) Lethal Justice (2006) (Amazon) Free Fall (2007) (Amazon) Hide and Seek (2007) (Amazon) Hokus Pokus (2007) (Amazon) Fast Track (2008) (Amazon) Collateral Damage (2008) (Amazon) Final Justice (2008) (Amazon) Under the Radar (2009) (Amazon) Razor Sharp (2009) (Amazon) Vanishing Act (2009) (Amazon) Deadly Deals (2009) (Amazon) Game Over (2010) (Amazon) Cross Roads (2010) (Amazon) Deja Vu (2010) (Amazon) Home Free (2011) (Amazon) Gotcha! (2013) (

If we want to savor its taste, our revenge must be calculated. Now, go, my friend, and be safe.

THE RECKONING BROTHER’S KEEPER SINS OF THE FATHER THE BURNING THE DODGE CITY MASSACRE HELL HATH NO FURY THE RIVER RUNS RED DEATH DANCE BLOOD TRAIL BADGE OF HONOR LONG GUNS WANTED TIN MAN RETRIBUTION HIRED GUN HUNTED RESURRECTION IN COLD BLOOD REAGAN’S RIDERS THE BOUNTY WAGON TRAIN THE KILLING HOMBRE BODY COUNT HUNT DOWN FROM THE GRAVE BLACK RAVEN THE BOUNTY HUNTERS TO HELL AND BACK MACHETE STREETS OF LAREDO RIDE OF REVENGE COLD JUSTICE GOD’S GUN DARK CLOUD REDEMPTION TROUBLE IN NAVARRO BLACK HEART COMING SOON… THE 39TH BOOK IN THE JESS WILLIAMS WESTERN SERIES

Just like me. Just like so many others. Tragedies may change who we are, may alter the paths we take, sometimes drastically. But we can still continue on, continue living for tomorrow. Tomorrow is always worth fighting for." Mach Derune, A Time for Revenge, The End of Old Ways series

Hahaha! You fools really thought you were gonna walk in here and I would show myself like that. No, you’re mistaken. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve. You have a long road until you get to me and like I said, Mr. Angel, I’m the last person you’ll want to see! In fact, if you’re playing attention, you have met me already! However, I’ll leave it to my minions to take care of all of you! - Evil One from Revenge of the Gloobas

We’re all the same victim and the same perpetrator, David. Before any of us is guilty or persecuted, we are all human. The people who wronged us are having the same thoughts as the people we’ve wronged. So what’s our responsibility to others? It’s to accept their humanity, whether it benefited us or not.

I'm grounded indefinitely.

The feng shui in here is amazing.

I know you're not familiar with what a real restaurant is like, but the front door isn't usually located in the alley," she snapped. He clicked his tongue before responding. "See, for a moment I was wondering if I'd made a mistake coming here. But I'd hate to miss this witty repartee." "It's not repartee if I'm the only one with wit." She straightened, like one of those exotic birds she'd seen in an episode of Planet Earth when they wanted to intimidate predators. "Why do you look like an extra from SVU?" Leo pulled down the hood and took off his sunglasses. "Did you know there are paparazzi outside your restaurant? I'm surprised they're willing to drive this far east." He shook his head to himself. "Why have a restaurant in Silver Lake? It's like the Brooklyn of LA . Shouldn't you be in West Hollywood, where the real money is?" "If I'd known there was a portal from hell located so close by I would've reconsidered the location." Less than a minute in Leo's presence, and she'd slipped back into insult mode as easily as popping dark chocolate into her mouth. The taste of knocking him down a peg was as sweet as always.

Complex PTSD is a result of prolonged or repeated trauma over a period of months or years. Here are some common symptoms of Complex PTSD: reliving trauma through flashbacks and nightmares dizziness or nausea when recalling memories avoiding situations or places that remind you of the trauma or abuser hyperarousal, which means being in a continual state of high alert the belief that the world is a dangerous place, a loss of faith and belief in the goodness of others a loss of trust in yourself or others difficulty sleeping being jumpy—sensitive to stimuli hypervigilance—constantly observing others’ behavior, searching for signs of bad behavior and clues that reveal bad intentions low self-esteem, a lack of self-confidence emotional regulation difficulties—you find yourself being more emotionally triggered than your usual way of being; you may experience intense anger or sadness or have thoughts of suicide preoccupation with an abuser—it is not uncommon to fixate on the abuser, the relationship with the abuser, or getting revenge for the abuse detachment from others—wanting to isolate yourself, withdraw from life challenges in relationships, including difficulty trusting others, possibly seeking out a rescuer, or even getting into another relationship with an abuser because it is familiar disassociation—feeling detached from yourself and your emotions depression—sadness and low energy, a lack of motivation toxic guilt and shame—a feeling that somehow you deserved to be abused, or that your failure to leave earlier is a sign of weakness destructive self-harming behavior—abusing drugs and alcohol is a common result of ongoing trauma; this can also include overeating to soothe and self-medicate. The flip side can be harming yourself through not eating. These behaviors develop during the period of trauma as a way to deal with or forget about the trauma and emotional pain.

The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.

mike

Aunt Jeanie: My crazy nut of an aunt Uncle Bob: The poor guy who somehow got stuck with my crazy nut of an aunt—he's very nice and very rich.

continue

WARM SALT "A grad student investigates the tragic death of a diving partner and stumbles on a crime ring in Eshleman's debut thriller. An often engaging action novel, bolstered by its exotic setting and realistic protagonist." - Kirkus Reviews ICE BRINE "A diving pro and part owner of a Canadian undersea salvage company tangles with international criminals and multiple intelligence agencies. An exhilarating thriller; Clive Cussler fans will find that Peter Case floats their boat." - Kirkus Reviews CASE CLOSED "In Eshleman's 1980s-set novel, the third in his Peter Case trilogy, Case and sidekick Hal McDonald reluctantly abandon their marine salvage business on Vancouver Island to investigate a series of suspicious deaths. A quiet revenge story that morphs into a high-impact tale." - Kirkus Reviews

A progress of degradation with glowing phraseology, cajoleries and falsity. They put on exaggerated airs of mock-modesty, and assume a scornful pose before their admirers, all the time longing to be noticed. The old punctilious sense of honor have ceased to exist while finally the practices of the man of pleasure, the libertine modes, in full completeness, count at most only some forty years of life, – after which the reign of hypocrisy sets in. What is lighter than a feather? A woman. What is lighter than a woman? Nothing. Phrase found in a Latin satire. It means nothing more nothing less than this: women have always hated morality and seriousness, precise knowledge and deliberate wisdom, which in their eyes are merely silly and hypocritical pretensions that mark the class of professional phrase-mongers. Writers like Gorgias or Appolodorus, or orators like Hyperides, masters of the eloquence that thrills mankind. The Gown, whence springs the type of creatures that tear each other to pieces with tongue and pen. pg84 A kind o f a code of revenge, a guiding principle a point of honor that was held more sacred than life itself Vulsenade Pg94 Such extravagances were admitted by the principles of chivalry, an institution sane enough at its origins, but run mad before its end.” Dr Johannes Scheer, Society and Manners in Germany, Chivalry at Court Pg138 And many another indiscreet, prying teller of naughty tales, are far and away more instructive than formal history, which is either pedantic by convention or else dumb by constraint. In investigations of any kind details should be studied first, in order at a subsequent stage to elaborate the series of special observations made into a general survey of the subject. This is the only way to get good results pg154 A phrase well expressing an easiness of morals at once very frank and very French. Pg166 That treacherous gentleness women practice toward one another – every woman instinctively hates every other. pg164 A woman will allow herself to be told: you belong to a sex possessing a small brain and a half-developed organization; your disposition and instinctive are all disproportionate, inconsequent hypocritical, illogical and futile; your moral sense is deformed, your selfishness without a scruple and your vanity without a limit. All this will hardly so much as annoy her; but dare to say: you have short legs, and you have committed a dire offense woman’s nature can never forgive. Further on, Schopenhauer adds another curiously insulting passage: “The ancients,”he says, “would have laughed at our gallantry of the old French fashion and our stupid veneration for number two of the perfect realization of German-Christian silliness.” pg169 “A married woman’s first thought and care is to devise how to be a widow.” Brantley, Dames galantes, Fourth Discourse

He gave the students a series of “prescriptions for guaranteed misery in life,” recommending that they should be unreliable, avoid compromise, harbor resentments, seek revenge, indulge in envy, “ingest chemicals,” become addicted to alcohol, neglect to “learn vicariously from the good and bad experience of others,” cling defiantly to their existing beliefs, and “stay down” when struck by the “first, second, or third severe reverse in the battle of life.

Gromit looked around to find a way to get his revenge on the citizens of Duck Island. He came across the Duck Island Generator. What the Duck Island Generator did was to supply all of the folks on Duck Island with power and internet … but whatever happened to the generator would also happen to the ducks’ technology! If Gromit blew up the generator, all the technology on Duck Island would explode, too!

I laughed. "Yeah, Geraldine, you should totally lick it. Let's get something to eat." I was tired of trying to act cute. I was hungry and all this great food was going to waste. I had begun to walk toward the chocolate fountain when I heard a moan behind me. I turned to see Geraldine with her tongue stuck to the ice sculpture, right on the lady's armpit. It was not a pretty sight. I tried to edge away and pretend like I didn't see it, but it was too late.

mustn’t

—Denied Amelia Armstrong

Cupcakes

Two hours after the melon disaster, I sprawled on the floor of my room. Grounded. With nothing to do.

I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?” Perhaps

Having

In Girl World someone always had to be planning something or spreading rumors about her rival. If she didn't like someone, why not just stay away from her?

I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.—Groucho Marx —Self-explanatory

We are not to try to get revenge for evil that is done to us. Paul reminds us that vengeance belongs to the Lord. The Lord will repay people for their evil doings. It is not our place to try to get revenge. He encourages us to repay evil with good and, by doing so, those who mistreated us will be ashamed of the way they acted.

Handel, the one who taught Davy, when a bigger kid was picking on him at school, that revenge made a man weak, while forgiveness took a man’s power back from the bully.

secretly dissolved mescaline in coffee or alcohol and began an innocuous conversation with the unsuspecting test subjects. After thirty to sixty minutes a change took place. The alkaloid had passed into the bloodstream via the mucous membrane of the stomach. The experimental subjects who were “opened up” by the drug were now informed that in this special zone where the interrogation was taking place Plötner had direct access to their soul. He suggested they should tell him everything of their own free will or something terrible would happen. The perfidious strategy worked: “When the mescaline took effect, the investigating person could extract even the most intimate secrets from the prisoner if the questions were asked skillfully. They even reported voluntarily on erotic and sexual matters. . . . Mental reservations ceased to exist. Emotions of hatred and revenge could always be brought to light. Tricky questions were not seen through, so that an assumption of guilt could easily be produced from the answer.”39 Plötner could not finish his series of tests. The Americans liberated the camp and confiscated his documents. It was a treasure trove for the U.S. Secret Service. Under the leadership of Charles Savage and the Harvard medic Henry K. Beecher, the experiments were continued under the code name Project Chatter and other rubrics at the Naval Medical Research Institute in Washington, DC.

caller ID

The wolf legends demanded immediate revenge. Groups of colonists entered the forest, killed the predators, and restored their mastery over nature in a day… the legends offered a quick solution: regeneration through violence

Be a real friend. Being a fake friend is totally lame.

I'd rather have three real friends than a hundred fake ones.

Fuck, how ironic. First Sparkles, now me. If that fucking vampire appears, I will shoot myself.

Here are few words to the unknown person who hurted me in a way nobody else did. This has been very impacting, the words still bang my head like marijuana. Even though I didn't knew much about you, I had no idea of the vulgarity of your mind which was so flithy for me but beautifuly coated with saccharine tales and rains with utmost fake sympathy. I sigh almost in tears for the words I never ever imagined to hear from anybody, but you broke that thought away henceforth believing that Satan did existed in the harmony of Angels. We could have been such good friends talking secretly about you to my besty that 'Maris is so warmest being'. You didn't had any idea how much I respected you and your struggles. I wonder how could you do this to a stranger like me who had been happily good to your gestures ever since I Mailed you. That mail just said to take care of my favourite thing and you took a revenge of my kindness. I sigh my pity on you that I cared for you beyond I thought I would do. But my dear, I still have care for you and never wish to accept your apology because you were in anger and wrath does Mahabharata. I just want to tell you that everything you did,hurted me and the challenges are really unbearable, the consequence is worst, you making me alone in such darkness that I wish to sleep in weepy rain and wake up in never.

The world needs less heat and more light. It needs less of the heat of anger, revenge, retaliation, and more of the light of ideas, faith, courage, aspiration, joy, love, and hope.” ― Wilferd Peterson ―