Best 8552 quotes in «hate quotes» category

She dared to cry? On this day of all days? I was the one who would be married at sunset, and I hadn't let myself cry in five years. There was ice in my lungs and in my heart. I was floating. I was swept away, and out of the cold I spoke to her in a voice as soft as snow, the gentle and obedient voice I had used to consent to every order that Father and Aunt Telomache ever gave me, every order that they would never give Astraia because they actually loved her. "You know, that Rhyme is a lie that Aunt Telomache only told you because you weren't strong enough to bear the truth." I had thought the words so often, they felt like nothing in my mouth, like no more than a breath of air, and as easily as breathing I went on. "The truth is, Mother died because of you, and now I have to die for your sake, too. And neither one of us will ever forgive you." Then I shoved her aside and strode out of the room.

She’d forgotten to love, but she also forgot to hate. (about Clara’s mother, who had dementia)

She didn’t want to keep talking about him as if everything was okay. Worst of all, she hated sorting through his mail. Reading the hatred people had for her family and worse, reading how others immortalized him into a god for what he’d done.

She had said: 'You could not hate anyone that much -' She was mistaken. What did she know? She felt so good right now, this must be hate, what else could it be? ("Mind Over Murder")

She hated herself more than she could express.

She hated him – she hated everything he stood for. But when they said hate is akin to love they were certainly right. Because she needed him with every fibre of her being. And hard as it was to admit it, that need was only part of what she felt for him. The whole was love – a love which recognised how wrong he was for her, but still clung to him. To everything about him.

She hated the love she had been given, because it had asked for nothing in return, which was absurd, unreal, against the laws of nature

she hated everything her parents loved

She hated his need to always win and he hated her coldness during their arguments. They fought about the exact color of the sky and which path they should take on a hunt. They disagreed passionately about whose fish was the best tasting. They could work up extreme hatred for each other at a moment's notice.

She hated Jourdan as she had never hated anyone in her life before. She tried to move away, but he wouldn't let her, his face a white mask of fury above her, and she realised that she had voiced her thoughts out loud. 'You don't hate me, mignonne,' he drawled with harsh cruelty, his fingers biting into the tender flesh of her arms. 'You hate yourself for being a woman...

She knew with painful certainty that the opposite of love was not hate, but indifference.

She loved Harry and so, when he disappeared, when he withdrew into vagueness and alcohol, she had despised him passionately.

She represents something about the corporate world that repel me, some deep coldness masked as relentless cheerfulness.

She wanted you to move forward without regrets, not to deny the past entirely.

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 wasn't a cruel Bird. But her heart ached so badly for these sad, broken birds that, just as the Puppeteer had planned, she had begun to hate them. She hated them for making her feel so wretched, when she should be happiest. That happens sometimes.

Show me how much you hate me; so that I understand your love for me.

Silly Felix, hate and love are the flip sides of the same tarnished coin.

Simon hated her for that. Perhaps it was automatic. Her appearance alone made her different from him, and human beings had always feared and hated anyone who was different. Two thousand years of history saw it being repeated over and over, the perpetual struggle of one race, or tribe, or creed, against another... each one thinking they were right, superior, morally justified, or chosen by God. Simon saw himself as normal, Laura as abnormal.

Since love and hate can be fierce partners in crime, it is highly recommended to trace any early indicia of the fault lines in a shaky relationship in order to avert irreparable damage. ("Mes cliques et mes claques" )

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

Si no sientes nada por mi ¿Por qué siempre que estoy con otra chica te molestas? ¿Por qué aunque estés en los brazos de tu adorado novio me miras a mí?

Smiling is not a choice It’s a Lifestyle Pass it on

Smile in the face of sorrow; hope in the face of despair; persevere in the face of obstacles, and love in the face of hate.

So everybody who talks about homosexuals as a damnation better look in a mirror and try to heal their own selves. Who they call homosexuals do, at least, act out of their love. That’s better than the hate a whole lot of people act out of.

Soeur Jeanne was free. Two weeks later Surin returned to Bordeaux. The following spring Father Tranquille died in a paroxysm of demoniac frenzy. The treasury ceased to pay the salary of the surviving exorcists, who were all recalled to their various houses. Left to themselves such devils as remained soon took their leave. After six years of incessant struggle, the Church Militant gave up the fight. Its enemies promptly disappeared. The long orgy was at an end. If there had been no exorcists, it would never have begun.

Societies that preach hate are where people no longer know how to live. - On Hate Hour

So it went on continually, the recurrence of love and conflict between them. One day it seemed as if everything was shattered, all life spoiled, ruined, desolate and laid waste. The next day it was all marvellous again, just marvellous. One day she thought she would go mad from his very presence, the sound of his drinking was detestable to her. The next day she loved and rejoiced in the way he crossed the floor, he was sun, moon and stars in one.

Some kinds of misery make you hate the world, but some kinds make you hate yourself, and--butter and cheese not withstanding--Neve had no question that Spear was the latter.

So many hypocrites, people busy preaching acceptance and tolerance but hating and rejecting everyone who isn't exactly like them.

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.

Someone who loves you just for your ideas will end up hating you for those same ideas.

Some of you have it ingrained in you. You weren't born with it. No baby has hate for anything. We were all babies once, right? This little guy doesn't care what country you were born in or what religion you might practice or how much you weigh or who you might love.

Someone made a grievous mistake when summer was created; no novitiate or god in their right mind would make a season akin to hell on purpose. Someone should be fired.

Someone who hates one group will end up hating everyone - and, ultimately, hating himself or herself.

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

Some people's glasses are half full. I'm the one drinking them. Some people have forgotten that Pluto is still a planet. I still remember my childhood. Some people are vegans. I have common sense. Some people call me Maurice. Some people call me the Gangsta of Love. Some people just want to live...but me, I'm the one still alive.

Some people will hate you for not loving them.

Some ride the bullet to vent, while some shoot the bullet to revenge.

So many reasons to hate and still I choose to love anyway...

Some might say; loving is worse than hating, yet leaving is the worst.

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 the rain, other appreciate it for the blooming flowers.

Some people love me for being odd, and some want to kill me for the same reason

Some say Twitter is overrated. Some love it, others hate it. I guess it depends on what you've got, If you have guts to write a funny plot!

Sometimes he wondered if he did these things just to test himself. To see if the feelings had gone. But they had not. When he saw her, he wanted to be with her; when he was with her, he ached to touch her; when he touched even her hand, he wanted to embrace her. He wanted to feel her against him the way he had in the attic. He wanted to know the taste of her skin and the smell of her hair. He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to sit and listen to her talk about books until his ears fell off. But all these things he could not want, because they were things he could not have, and wanting what you could not have led to misery and madness.

Sometimes I can feel my darkness, like a fragment of nerves inside of me somewhere, sparking my hate. I picture it moving throughout my body, the other cells letting it pass by, yielding to its master. It moves to my tongue when it wants me to spew beautiful, damaging words, it moves to my hands when it wants me to feel all it can take away, and it moves to my eyes to blind me from truly seeing the destruction I’ve done.

Sometimes I help him out and sometimes he helps me out, and sometimes he tries to push me through the wall. (Dark City Lights)

Sometimes, lies were the same things as wishes. Sometimes, wishes were things to hate.

Sometimes people hate you. Just hate them back.