Thou hast filled Thyself with peace, O Glory of the worlds on high, and the anger of all lands cannot shake Thy peace.
Among mortals peace is small; therefore anger has grown mighty.
In the bosom of pride anger builds its nest, and in the bosom of anger murder is hatched.
All sins lead to murder, but none dwells so near to murder as anger.
The one-eyed laws of earth do not punish anger, for they do not see that anger kills. But Thy clear-sighted law, O Glory of the worlds on high, names anger murder.
I toil, by sunlight and by moonlight, to penetrate the mystery of Thy law. And ever since this toiling made lean all my earthly hopes, I began to feel how the anger of my neighbors kills me.
Slaves are children of anger, and sons are children of peace. Therefore Thy Wisdom speaks to men, and repeats, saying: be sons!
For a son looks into the face of his father, and orders his own face after the face of his father. And when he sees peace on his father's face, how can he disfigure his own face with anger, without turning away from his father?
Into two men anger brings weakness: into him who is angered, and into him upon whom the anger is poured out. And weakness is the forerunner of death.
The Wonderworker works no wonders among the children of anger, for the children of anger bring weakness into him.
My neighbors: why do you feel mighty among those who love you, and powerless among those whom your presence angers? Is it not because the former add to your life by love, and the latter take away from your life by anger?
Therefore it has become dear to me to be always with Thee, O Glory of the worlds on high. For only in Thy presence do I neither kill nor am killed.
As drop by drop of water eats away even the hardest rock, so anger eats away the life of two men.
As a slayer with a knife in ambush, so anger waits in the proud heart.
Truly, pride knows that it is guilty; therefore it has set anger at the door, to stand guard for it.
Pride knows that it is sinful; therefore it has found itself an advocate in another sin.
Fill my heart with humility, O Glory of the worlds on high, with the humility of the angels before Thy throne. For humility has neither night's lodging nor day's shelter for anger.
Give me the humility of a son, and I shall be ashamed to be angry with slaves and to kill slaves. Armor me with Thy peace, which the anger of the children of anger shall not be able to shake.