Anais Nin writes much about anger. Here is an excerpt from a letter she wrote to a poet in prison:
"My only concern is your unhealed anger, and your pessimism, what I call, when I'm guilty of it, hemophilia of the soul, unhealing wounds caused by others' cruelties.... The moment an artist becomes bitter he has ceased to possess his own world; he has gone over to the enemy camp, the enemies of his work, who had intended to embitter him, knowing it kills creativity.... Destruction is going on all around us but so is creation. We can choose sides.... All of us have been at some time or other humiliated, betrayed, but our real life depends on how we react to such experiences."
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