Best 1530 quotes in «hatred quotes» category

relations are the failures of life..

Religion carries two sorts of people in two entirely opposite directions: the mild and gentle people it carries towards mercy and justice; the persecuting people it carries into fiendish sadistic cruelty. Mind you, though this may seem to justify the eighteenth-century Age of Reason in its contention that religion is nothing but an organized, gigantic fraud and a curse to the human race, nothing could be farther from the truth. It possesses these two aspects, the evil one of the two appealing to people capable of naïve hatred; but what is actually happening is that when you get natures stirred to their depths over questions which they feel to be overwhelmingly vital, you get the bad stirred up in them as well as the good; the mud as well as the water. It doesn't seem to matter much which sect you have, for both types occur in all sects....

Religions, to a large extent, became divisive rather than unifying forces. Instead of bringing about an ending of violence and hatred through a realization of the fundamental oneness of all life, they brought more violence and hatred, more divisions between people as well as between different religions and even within the same religion. They became ideologies; belief systems people could identify with and so use them to enhance their false sense of self. Through them they could make themselves “right” and others “wrong” and thus define their identity through their enemies, the “others”, the “nonbelievers” or “wrong believers” who not infrequently they saw themselves justified in the killing.

Remember: God's grief at the unspeakable things we do to one another is beyond measuring, but so is His mercy. It might seem a terrible thing to say to people who've lost and suffered so much at the hands of hatred and violence. But true courage is not to hate our enemy, any more than to fight and kill him. To love him, to love in the teeth of his hate—that is real bravery. That ought to earn people m-m-medals.

Renew yourself with love. Wash away all the fear, hatred and societal conformity to create a brand new humanity filled with love, kindness and happiness.

Requited love is not as likely as requited hatred.

Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

Revenge is often compared to full course dinner meal best served bitter cold, it is the weakest and poorest excuse for any man or woman to use to hurt another because of there own grief

Samuel understood at last why this being hated men and women so much: he hated them because they were so like himself, because the worst of the was mirrored in them. He was the source of all that was bad in men and women, but he had none of the greatness, and none of the grace, of which human beings were capable, so that by only by corrupting them was his own pain diminished, and thus his existence made more tolerable.

Satan tasted with the tip of his finger a very tiny amount of human hatred. It poisoned him and he died right away.

Satan will not ask you to carry a chair and sit with him, instead he will snatch the chair from your hands and dismantle your body with it.

Searching for the Man who lives in him was perhaps what he really meant, because certainly no beast has essayed the boundless, infinitely inventive art of human hatred. No beast can match its range and power.

Seconds turn into minutes and minutes into hours. It is all still the same. Or it no longer is. If I were to ask what has changed, perhaps nothing, but conceivably everything would be the befitting reply. I no longer feel the same. Loss preceded me, alienating my soul from the body. I feel I am gliding through an alley making a journey from the known towards the unknown. There is a deep abyss inside where sometime back, my heart used to beat and a noisy, rusty old machine has replaced my mind; solitarily creating useless noise. I don’t remember what day it is and since when have I been lying here. It must have been yesterday… or was it day before. I cannot recollect anything except the dull throbbing pain inside my brain. I can see the time, almost 9: 45, difficult to say which time of the day it is. The bigger hand is soon going to overshadow the smaller hand. It looks like a game of cat and mouse; the bigger hand chasing the smaller one. Anyone stronger in terms of physical appearance, money, power, fame or name tramples upon the weak ones - that is the rule of the world. There are only two possible reasons behind it, love or hate. When you love someone you want to control everything that person does and hence, sometimes, knowingly or unknowingly you squash them like melons. While on the other hand in the case of hate, there is no need to specify the reason for walking over someone like that. Hate is a strong reason in itself. I am confused as to what crushed me, was it love or hate? I somehow don’t like the sound of it – love, it in itself smells of treachery, for love is not a pure emotion. Lust and hatred are the only pure emotions. Love is camouflaged, for needs and desires. Desires – they are magical in their own way. They can be innocent. They can be monstrous. But they exist, no matter what, and many such needs and desires make us helpless slaves of the same. We hide these desires either in the realms of our mind or in the dusty corners of our hearts for we are scared…what if someone finds out what we desire. We give them identities so as to not let the real thing show. The only thing visible on the front is a mask we wear to deceive people or that’s what I thought. For I was deceived while I believed I am the deceiver. Or was I not? I debated as my mind once again tried to enter a sleep-induced trance.

Sekarang saya tahu satu hal, ketika kita berpikir tentang Semangat yang mudah menular, begitu juga yang terjadi pada Kebencian.

Self-hatred is self-imprisonment. Self-forgiveness is self-liberation. You have the right to suppress yourself, oppress yourself and depress yourself. You have the right to impress yourself too. Feel happy!

She had seen this monster too many times before; however, there was something especially sinister lurking behind the coldness of his exterior. Dragan had lost all his humanity as he allowed the evil running through his bloodline to reveal its putrid face, spewing hatred at his own flesh and blood.

She became fascinated by the statue of Edith Cavell and would stand at the base of it in the freezing cold of a December morning, looking up: - Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness for anyone-. Sometimes those words made her cry. The tears would come uncontrollably and they would not stop. And in those moments Anna found forgiveness and it made her free. But they were only moments. Forgiveness is a hard thing to hang on to.

She wanted to get at the hate of them all, to pry at it and work at it until she found a little chink, and then pull out a pebble or a stone or a brick and then a part of the wall, and, once started, the whole edifice might roar down and be done away with.

She saw the faces streaming past her, the faces made alike by fear—fear as a common denominator, fear of themselves, fear of all and of one another, fear making them ready to pounce upon whatever was held sacred by any single one they met... She had kept herself clean and free in a single passion—to touch nothing. She had liked facing them in the streets, she had liked the impotence of their hatred, because she offered them nothing to be hurt.

Siding with any political party or politician on social media is the best and fastest way to become a victim of hatred.

Simon shook his head. ‘The Nazis in Germany…the Japanese here in Shanghai…Treating people as less than human because of the shape of their faces or the sound of their names. Sometimes it feels like the whole damn world is unraveling.

Signý knew she would die a thousand deaths upon seeing another woman with him, bearing his children, raising them with him. All the while, Signý, caged in his dungeons, hearing all the painful details of his life with someone else, drowning in her own despair, her love for him turning to hatred. A more tragic life, she could not imagine.

Small streams of hatred can quickly lead to unstoppable, horrific things, so [people] should stand up to any type of persecution or discrimination, whether bullying or malicious gossip.

Since you can’t be influence by people who hate you, you cannot influence people you hate also.

So long as humanity lives, there shall be differences in opinion, but mark this my friend, each human mind may think differently from the other, but all minds have the capacity to step beyond those differences in thoughts and be one with each other in the land beyond differences.

So I left words of forgiveness to God and liars and I enjoyed my hatred.

Some of the people who hate me love some of the sentences that I have written, until they get to the name of the person to whom the sentences are attributed.

Some friends are like sunny days, with false flames, oozing from afar, coming near without a dime.

Sometimes the people we love make us hate some other people we love.

Sometimes, this rage builds up inside me and I...I feel like it's eating me alive. Like soon there'll be nothing left of me but hatred and despair...It's more alive than I am.

Some people are each holding on to a lover of theirs who no longer loves them and/or who they no longer love, only because they do not want to have a reason or another reason to be jealous of the person who would eventually be their lover if they let go of them.

Some people hate people who are overconfident, only because their overconfidence reminds them of their underconfidence.

Sometimes what you love to do could even make many people to hate you. You may go through non-formal torments, character assassinations, verbal assaults and societal rejections, but if you are convinced about your love for what you are doing, you will never give up.

Some women would not cheat, and some would not have cheated, had they each married a man whom they love … or at least like.

Spreading, the hate and such subjects, in whatever form and length, encourages and boosts the individual haters and masters; consequently, it builds not only the way for their evil feelings to enjoy; thereupon that, flames and burns others' life as well. Whereas, those figures that, share and spread such hatred subjects widely, whether in sober faith or not, are more accountable than an original one. As an example that if one, sprays not the water on plants, become that dry, and its leaves, blown up naturally.

Surely the heart is not a fitting place to house hatred. But where is its place? I don't know. That is one of the universe's Unknowns. It would seem that the God's truly delight in messing things up, for in not having created a particular spot to house hatred, they have provoked eternal chaos. Hatred us forever hunting down a refuge, poking it's nose where it shouldn't, taking over sites reserved for others, invariably forcing out love.

Staying with detractors is like sleeping in a room located just behind the public toilet. You will never feel comfortable until you relocate.

Suppression of love or hatred creates conflict.

Sweep your mind and clean your heart, for these are the very places where things that make or mar our entire journey of life and living dwell! Sweep your mind and clean your heart, then you shall be free to be free and indeed have a true freedom! Sweep your mind and clean your heart, so you may have a clean mind and heart to be clean! Sweep your mind and clean your heart for not all things deserve a place in your heart and body! Sweep your mind and clean your heart, for in the end, so many things living in your heart and mind may never matter as part of the matters of your lifetime and life which really matter! Clean your heart and sweep your mind for certain people and things are in there only to disturb you for all the moments they shall continue to live there! Sweep your mind and clean your heart, for your body deserves nothing, but a clean mind and a clean heart daily for a daily fresh and refreshed body! Sweep your mind and clean your heart for there are so many toxic substances in our minds and hearts which we ponder over and over every day that weaken not just our hearts and minds every day, but our entire daily life and living! Sweep your mind and clean your heart for certain things deserve to live permanently in our hearts and minds so as to enable us live and leave distinctive footprints, and certain things deserve to leave our hearts and minds so that we can have a safe journey of life, and live and leave distinctive footprints in our journey of life!

Spread love, joy and compassion because the world needs it, for hatred and pain need no escort; they know how to survive without it.

Success causes others to be jealous and hate.

Sweet Evelyn, I think, I should have loved you better. Possessing perfect knowledge I hover above him as he hacks me to bits. I see his rough childhood. I see his mother doing something horrid to him with a broomstick. I see the hate in his heart and the people he had yet to kill before pneumonia gets him at eighty-three. I see the dead kid's mom unable to sleep, pounding her fists against her face in grief at the moment I was burying her son's hand. I see the pain I've caused. I see the man I could have been, and the man I was, and then everything is bright and new and keen with love and I sweep through Sam's body, trying to change him, trying so hard, and feeling only hate and hate, solid as stone.

The Aramaic word for “forgive” means literally to “untie.” Hatred and anger had bound me to my pain. The fastest way to free the self from an enemy and all associated negativity is to forgive. Untie those bindings; free yourself from that person’s ugliness.

Tessa: Are all vampires like that? Cold like that? Charlotte: Many of them have been alive a long time. They don't see things the way we do.

That afternoon, she'd looked across at Storrow, at his proud, immaculate features and depthless gaze, and felt as if this man was every man she'd ever hated. He was Torsten; he was Vasily; he was every brutal narcissist who lived to impress his distortions of reality upon souls weaker than his own- which Storrow had, misguidedly, taken hers to be.

That child of Hell had nothing human; nothing lived in him but fear and hatred.

That's the myth of it, the required lie that allows us to render our judgments. Parasites, criminals, dope fiends, dope peddlers, whores--when we can ride past them at Fayette and Monroe, car doors locked, our field of vision cautiously restricted to the road ahead, then the long journey into darkness is underway. Pale-skinned hillbillies and hard-faced yos, toothless white trash and gold-front gangsters--when we can glide on and feel only fear, we're well on the way. And if, after a time, we can glimpse the spectacle of the corner and manage nothing beyond loathing and contempt, then we've arrived at last at that naked place where a man finally sees the sense in stretching razor wire and building barracks and directing cattle cars into the compound. It's a reckoning of another kind, perhaps, and one that becomes a possibility only through the arrogance and certainty that so easily accompanies a well-planned and well-tended life. We know ourselves, we believe in ourselves; from what we value most, we grant ourselves the illusion that it's not chance in circumstance, that opportunity itself isn't the defining issue. We want the high ground; we want our own worth to be acknowledged. Morality, intelligence, values--we want those things measured and counted. We want it to be about Us. Yes, if we were down there, if we were the damned of the American cities, we would not fail. We would rise above the corner. And when we tell ourselves such things, we unthinkably assume that we would be consigned to places like Fayette Street fully equipped, with all the graces and disciplines, talents and training that we now posses. Our parents would still be our parents, our teachers still our teachers, our broker still our broker. Amid the stench of so much defeat and despair, we would kick fate in the teeth and claim our deserved victory. We would escape to live the life we were supposed to live, the life we are living now. We would be saved, and as it always is in matters of salvation, we know this as a matter of perfect, pristine faith. Why? The truth is plain: We were not born to be niggers.

The best gift my Mother gave me was atheism. Luckily dodging the controlling judgmental hatred called "religion".

Telling the truth has always come naturally to me. And I realize, that people like me are the reason the world hates the truth.

The basic fact is that Christianity as it was born in the mind of this Jewish thinker and teacher appears as a technique of survival for the oppressed. That it became, through the intervening years, a religion of the powerful and the dominant, used sometimes as an instrument of oppression, must not tempt us into believing that it was thus in the mind and life of Jesus. 'In him was life; and the life was the light of men.' Wherever his spirit appears, the oppressed gather fresh courage; for he announced the good news that fear, hypocrisy, and hatred, the three hounds of hell that track the trail of the disinherited, need have no dominion over them.