Anger hates being wrong. It thinks it's more honorable to stick with a bad decision than to back down. I remember Gnaeus Piso, a man who wasn't particularly wicked but had a twisted personality. He confused cruelty with strength. In his anger, he ordered a soldier to be executed. The soldier had returned from leave without his companion, and Piso assumed he must have murdered him since he couldn't produce the man. When the soldier begged for time to search for his friend, Piso refused. The condemned man was dragged outside the camp walls and was about to put his neck to the axe when suddenly his companion appeared — the very man everyone thought was dead.
It hates to be proved wrong, and thinks it more honourable to persevere in a mistaken line of conduct than to retract it. I remember Gnaeus Piso, a man who was free from many vices, yet of a perverse disposition, and one who mistook harshness for consistency. In his anger he ordered a soldier to be led off to execution because he had returned from furlough without his comrade, as though he must have murdered him if he could not show him. When the man asked for time for search, he would not grant it: the condemned man was brought outside the rampart, and was just offering his neck to the axe, when suddenly there appeared his comrade who was thought to be slain.