Best 8552 quotes in «hate quotes» category

Love them that hate you, but you can't love those you hate.

Love sees more with its eyes closed than hate with its eyes open.

Love that brings you sorrow is better than hate that brings you joy.

Love that causes you pain is better than hate that brings you pleasure.

Love should never mean having to live in fear.

Love that hurts is better than hate that tickles.

Love them that hate you, but you can't love them whom you hate.

Love's light conquers hate's darkness.

Love your friends with your eyes closed, but love your enemies with both eyes open.

Love wins when reflections win over reflexes.

Love your haters; they’re the ones who are really paying attention to you.

Love treats its enemies better than hate treats its friends.

Love, when you get fear in it, it's not love any more. It's hate.

Love turns, with little indulgence, to indifference or disgust: hatred alone is immortal.

Love unites people; hate only brings them together.

Love yourself as you love your neighbour. If you love your neighbour with a heavy heart, love yourself too with a heavy heart.

Loving you was easy. Hating you was hard. Falling out was insane.

<...> I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again. For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

Luke said that he was surprised when I showed up at his room. That he hadn’t meant to give me the wrong idea. That he would never have taken it beyond just kissing. And he looked so genuine. So trustworthy. So sorry about what had happened. He almost convinced me that I’d misread his signals.” Hallelujah pauses. “The whole time, I kept my mouth shut. I wish I hadn’t. But I was still so humiliated. And I felt guilty. I made out with him. I liked it. And no one made me go to his room.” Her voice breaks. She has to swallow past a lump in her throat. “I know Luke’s not a good guy. I know what he did isn’t my fault. It’s his. But still, none of it would’ve happened if I hadn’t gone to his room.” She’s almost there. Almost done. Almost heard. Something deep inside her hurts like it hasn’t hurt in a long time. But she knows that this gash had to reopen in order to heal. That’s how wounds work. They need air. “I knew I’d get punished, and I did. My parents grounded me. I was put on youth group probation. But I honestly thought Luke’s lies would just fade away if I kept a low profile. There’s always gossip about someone. This time it was me.” ... “Luke is still telling people about what supposedly happened that night,” Hallelujah says. “And he makes fun of me. All the time. What I look like, what I say, my name. And he does this thing at church: whenever we sing a hymn with my name in it, he sings it like he’s hooking up with me. He sings the word ‘hallelujah’ at me. He moans it. And I hate it.” That’s one of the reasons she stopped singing: his voice, his fake grunts of satisfaction, ruining the music she loved so much. “You said,” she says to Jonah, “he wanted to keep me upset. To keep me from telling anyone what really happened. Well, it worked.” She pauses. “Until now.” “Until now,” Rachel repeats. Then she curses. “I can’t believe him. I can’t believe he got away with it.” “I let him get away with it,” Hallelujah says softly. “No. He’s the one who crossed the line. And okay, maybe you could’ve spoken up sooner. But if no one pushed you for your side of the story, that’s on them.” Rachel yawns and stretches. “And when we get home, we’re going to set the record straight.

Lupe would have a lot to say about this. I can almost hear her gravelly voice in my head. There is no hate without fear, she'd say. Hate is fear crystallized, fear objectified. We hate what threatens our selves, our dreams, our plans, our freedom, our place in the world, our place in the hearts of the people we love. We fear first. Then we hate. And I know what I would say to her in response. Lupe, I'd say. My troubles are just beginning.

Machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines, you are not cattle, you are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don’t hate: only the unloved hate, the unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers, don’t fight for slavery, fight for liberty! You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness! You the people have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure! Then, in the name of democracy, let us use that power. Let us all unite! Let us fight for a new world, a decent world . . .

Man who TOY with Womans feelings and emotions are heartless & faithless creatures. But don’t hate them. Show empathy because they are poor & forgotten souls !

Many men find themselves unable to cope with even minor frustration. They get angry over trivial things, such as a broken pencil lead or an overcooked hamburger. Their anger erupts and gets out of control. They feel as though they are constantly under attack, that everyone is out to get them, and that nobody understands or cares about them. They may even get superstitious and believe that fate has it in for them, or that God has turned against them. This feeling of having no control leads to a state of continual frustration and anger. This tendency to react with instant anger can be called rage. Rage is anger that never completely goes away. Unlike regular anger, it is not a response to a specific event; rather, it is a response set, or tendency. In other words, it is an automatic way of reacting to the world without much thought. When you react to more and more situations with anger, it becomes your habitual response. You may often find yourself furiously yelling or seething inside without even knowing what it was that made you so angry. Rage sees personal attack in every disagreement. Rage causes you to feel threatened when there is no threat. And rage causes you to viciously counter-attack even a minor threat. Rage is like a wounded animal. It attacks anything that moves. And as with a wounded animal, the attacks do nothing to ease the pain. Rage depersonalizes individual people and events into a faceless, nameless "them".

Mary Fisher lives in a High Tower, on the edge of the sea: she writes a great deal about the nature of love. She tells lies.

Matar al enemigo, aunque su muerte ya no tenga sentido... Así es la guerra. El odio genera odio hasta que no resta más para destruir.

Maybe it was clear that he cared about me, that he couldn't handle another risk, but in that moment the only thing that made sense was my anger. I might have even hated him for what he said about Grace, because hating him was so much easier than understanding him. He obviously felt the same way.

Maybe the things you hate are keeping you away from the things you love

May the next girl you meet have the qualities of a praying mantis.

Maybe time would not feel as heavy if I didn't have this guilt - the guilt of knowing the truth and stuffing it down where no one can see it.

Maybe you have to know anybody awful well to love them but when you have hated somebody for forty-three years you will know them awful well so maybe it's better then maybe it's fine then because after forty-three years they cant any longer surprise you or make you either very contented or very mad.

Maybe you'll find happiness if you try to look below anger, hate and jealousy.

Memories of the past are what drive us, whether to a life of beauty or a life of insanity is up to us.

Men don't hate anything if there's no hatred in their hearts.

Mencoba mengubur kesedihan dengan menimbun kebencian adalah suatu hal yang sia-sia. Semakin kau membenci, semakin erat pula tali kepedihan itu akan melilitmu.

men thinks women are stupid about finance ,about science and politics. otherwise they think themselves super intelligent. no . I am not saying this from hate or anger ,I am saying this because I have seen such persons around me . if a woman weak in finance ,with a limited budget how they manage households ? or in crisis come up with reserved fund ? they understand loan ,as equal overdraft ,they understand where her signature can protect her respect where might insult . they just pretend to be stupid much time ,that their loved one may feel safe and can be relaxed that their tricks are still unknown . funny . like let them win

Men have always hated the wolf." "Why?" said the boy indignantly, suddenly looking very unhappy indeed. "Maybe because they see something in the wolf that they hate and fear in themselves. Maybe because wolves take their sheep and goats, as if we shouldn't all share life's bounty.

Mia's fingers thickened, blood crawling through her veins. It was not the first time Quin had left a trail of frostbite in his wake. She couldn't account for the sluggishness of her hands or the kiss of cold against her cheek when he was near. Was this how it felt to be hated? Like sinking into a snowdrift, naked and exposed?

Mind hates to seep in delusion soaking faintly discolored obsession.

Minds, however, are conquered not by arms, but by love and nobility.

MISUNDERSTANDING" arises only when you see the things with Closed Eyes

More people have died in the name of religion than any other cause on earth. Is massacring God's creations really serving God - or the devil? And what father would want to see his children constantly divided and fighting? What God would allow a single human life to be sacrificed for monetary gain? Again, the Creator or the devil?

Money is not respect. Neither is power. And if people respect you for your money or your power, it isn't you they respect - but the money or the power. When you win people over who hate you for what you are or what you believe, and they still come to you to make friends - or to ask you for counsel or assistance - that is respect - and that respect is power.

More I tried hating him;more I thought about him and I lived with it everyday and I lived with him everyday.

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you.

Most hate is more common and more complicated, with as many varieties as there are varieties of love. Just as there is possessive love and needy love; family love and friendship; romantic love and unrequited love; passion and respect, affection and obsession, so hatred has its shadings. There is hate that fears, and hate that merely feels contempt; there is hate that expresses power, and hate that comes from powerlessness; there is revenge, and there is hate that comes from envy. There is hate that was love, and hate that is a curious expression of love. There is hate of the other, and hate of something that reminds us too much of ourselves. There is the oppressor's hate, and the victim's hate. There is hate that burns slowly, and hate that fades. And there is hate that explodes, and hate that never catches fire.

Most people throw away their personal power... If you want to know where, look at who and what you hate, blame, resent, and envy.

Most of us do things for reasons that are more purely personal. For love, or for hate.

My body flopped to the ground as I realized my doom. I was in love. Finally. It’s what every girl dreams about from the moment she starts dreaming, to fall in love and be in love. Well I was in love, and I hated it.

Multitudes speak of their first love; seldom about their last hate.

My basic political principle: If something, whether right- or left-wing, is driven by love and solidarity, it is right; if it is driven by hate and fear it is wrong. Simple as that.