Strangle a realtor, go to jail

The original quote went like this:

Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd
Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd.

Those who have been in communcation with me lately will understand the source of my frustration. (hint: it Isn't with Rick). I am trying to sublimate my feelings of complete helplessness by resorting to literature.

The previous descriptive selection is from the closing line of act III of William Congreve's The Mourning Bride, first produced in 1697.
The Mourning Bride is your usual king-orders-beheading-of-enemy-prince-upon-finding-he-is-secretly-married-to-king's-daughter-but-gets-it-himself-in-a-case-of-mistaken-identity-resulting-in-another-mistaken-identity-with-subsequent-suicide-by-poisoning-revolution-and-reunion-of-happy-lovers tragedy.

The first line of the play is another oft-misquote:
Music has charms to soothe a savage breast."

Perhaps I just need to invoke the first line of the play? However, I will wait until a bit later; our downstairs neighbor doesn't really need to hear Metallica this early in the morning, right?

I'll do the Metallica thing to vent, then put on the soundtrack of March of the Penguins to sooth. Probably could soak in a hot bubblebath too.
Whatever it takes. Claudia, oh Ms. Coldwell-Banker, please please please don't fail us here.