But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner.
I have never been contained except I made the prison
Latent in every man is a venom of amazing bitterness, a black resentment; something that curses and loathes life, a feeling of being trapped, of having trusted and been fooled, of being the helpless prey of impotent rage, blind surrender, the victim of a savage, ruthless power that gives and takes away, enlists a man, and crowning injury inflicts upon him the humiliation of feeling sorry for himself.
People who bite the hand that feeds them usually lick the boot that kicks them.