Quotes About Resentment

I was always faster than David when we were younger probably up until I was about 15. And he hated that.

Rolodex of Hate' is basically how I ended up being so hateful. It's a look inside.

Haters will always hate.

Every old dude hates young people.

Kobayashi won't talk to me. He hates me.

There are guys out there that have got to make a living on hating on somebody.

Hatred is inveterate anger.

I don't feel hatred for Zuniga.

I built up so much hatred for my parents, like so much anger for the life they had given me.

I think what happens is when you have fear, fear translates into hatred.

Everybody hates a prodigy, detests an old head on young shoulders.

My father was in the coal and heating business, and he wanted me to take over his business, and I resented every moment of it. So I would never force my kids to do what I do.

Indeed, the Duke of Edinburgh's disdain for his eldest son was all the more shocking because he made little or no attempt to hide it.

It is one thing to believe in a God; it is quite another to believe in God! Every time we grumble at our fate, every time we are displeased, hurt, resentful at this or that which comes to us, every time we do not receive the suffering sent us, with both hands, as William Law says, we are of the same spirit with this half-crazy woman.

Always in your stomach and in your skin there was a sort of protest, a feeling that you had been cheated of something you had a right to.

He hated her because she was young and pretty and sexless,because he wanted to go to bed with her and would never do so ...

And even when they became discontented, as they sometimes did, their discontent led nowhere, because, being without general ideas, they could only focus it on petty specific grievances.

I could see that because I'd seen her cursed she hated me like the devil. Queer!

There must have been about two minutes during which I assumed that I was killed. And that too was interesting -- I mean it is interesting to know what your thoughts would be at such a time. My first thought, conventionally enough, was for my wife. My second was a violent resentment at having to leave this world which, when all is said and done, suits me so well.

Always in your stomach and in your skin there was a sort of protest, a feeling that you had been cheated of something that you had a right to.

So these two classes, rising professionals and sinking workers, which a couple of generations ago were close in income and not so far apart in mores, no longer believe they belong to the same country. But they can't escape each other, and their coexistence breeds condescension, resentment, and shame.

Three cars for two grown-ups, I thought. What a country. What a couple selfish dicks my wife and her new husband were. I could see that, over the years, my babies would slowly transform into selfish-dick babies, then selfish-dick toddlers, kids, teenagers, and adults, with me all that time skulking around like some unclean suspect uncle.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he be grateful for all that Mom and Dad did for him, instead of— Cornhole the ear-cunt. Flake-fuck the pale vestige with a proddering dick-knee.

In one sense, Obama's point couldn't be clearer: race is a distraction from class-based inequities. And if we dismiss working-class resentment as camouflaged racism, we will continue to be distracted by the spectre of race.