Of the seven deadly sins, anger
is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over
grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter
confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both
the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back—in many ways it
is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are
wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you.
- Originally published in Wishful Thinking and later in Beyond Words
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