Quotes About Hatred

hating is like drink or drugs and she had used it so long that she did not dare risk cutting off the supply, destroying the source, the very poppy's root and seed?

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

white sheet draped over his head. And Peavey knew enough about men in white sheets to understand they were nothing but cowards and posers.

My dad hates umbrellas, said Deeba, swinging her own. When it rains he always says the same thing. 'I do not believe the presence of moisture in the air is sufficient reason to overturn society's usual sensible taboo against wielding spiked clubs at eye level.

When it hurts and destroys its follower, Love is worse than Hatred.

I hate it! I hate the air. I hate the sand. I hate the stupid people. I hate the way they work. I hate their bloody smiley bloody faces. I hate the never ending sky!

Some aweful things happened to a Negro kid named Emmett Till, and I was right in the middle of it,smack in the heart of crazy, senseless hatred.

You're entertaining people whether they like you or hate you. You're entertaining their hatred. And if they like you, you're entertaining their love.

I was glad to have the opportunity, but now I am glad to be rid of it. The constant violence, or the impending threat of it, and the toll of seeing so many casualties, over time, has enveloped me in an environment that weighs as heavily as a wool shroud even on pleasant days. To be the tiller at the wheel of man's hatred for man should be a tour of duty, not a career. - Ashley Crandall

Does Medea still have the power to retaliate, or has she been rendered harmless? Fear, admiration, envy, lust and hatred waltz hand-in-hand, for whatever else she is, Medea is not a nobody: beautiful, high-ranking, reckless, intelligent and skilled, she cannot be simply dismissed.

She is so white-hot furious she can barely see. She stokes the fire of her hatred, feeding it tidbits about bigoted Dina and spineless mushmouth Ralph, because she knows that just beyond the rage is a sorrow so enervating it could render her immobile. She needs to keep moving, flickering around the room. She needs o fill her bags and get the hell out of here.

She said she hated my children—her own children, Looloo-dirl, her own children!

When a woman hates, she will wreck a dozen lives to pay back what she conceives to be some injury.

You were breaking my bones and spirit and forcing your beastly love on me: a brute, a savage, a wild Indian wouldn't do what you did, slobbering round me and calling it love and filling me with children month after month and year after year while I hated and detested you and screamed in your ears to get away from me, but you wouldn't let me go.

St Michael's RC secondary sat on a promontory overlooking the town of Auchenlea. The choice of site was an indirect consequence of a past mistake in vocational guidance, leading someone who had a pathological hatred of children into town planning, rather than the more traditional field of teaching.

People seldom appreciated just how vital and positive raw hatred could be.

Hell hates nothing quite so much as itself.

Lily had lived in fear before she knew why she was afraid. She'd grown up knowing that people hated her. Perfectly ordinary people, the kind of adults who ought to be helping her to cross the road, hated Lily and wanted her gone. That was the climate of her childhood.

Hatred (is) a cancer in the mind. Hatred (is) an acid eating away the soul.

More than friends, eh? More than friends... You know, my mother once told me that half of the hatred that springs up between people is rooted in this mistaken belief that there's any human relationship more sacred than friendship.

This girl had been looking on with her hair hanging over her face, only partly hiding a cruel-looking scar; her eyes shone with hatred. Not necessarily hatred of your father or of puppets or the other children, but a hatred of make-believe, which did not heal, but was only useful to the people who didn't need it.

Half of the hatred that springs up between people is rooted in their mistaken belief that there is any human relationship more sacred than friendship.

Miss Foxe's other passion was fairy tales. She loved the transformations in them. Everybody was in disguise, or on their way to becoming something else. And all was overcome by order in the end. Love could not prevail if the order of the tale didn't wish it, and neither could hatred, nor grief, nor cunning. If you were the first of three siblings, then you were going to make a big mistake, and that was that. If you were the third sibling, you couldn't fail.

Half of the hatred that springs up between people is rooted in their mistaken belief there is any human relationship more sacred than friendship..