No one makes himself wait; yet the best cure for anger is waiting, to allow the first ardour to abate and to let the darkness that clouds the reason either subside or be less dense.  Of the offences which were driving you headlong, some an hour will abate, to say nothing of a day, some will vanish altogether; thought the postponement sought shall accomplish nothing else, yet it will be evident that judgement now rules instead of anger.  If ever you want to find out what a thing really is, entrust it to time; you can see nothing clearly in the midst of the billows.

Seneca, De Ira (On Anger), Book III