Quotes About Loathing

Let's go sit and hate a bunch of people.

Familiarity seems to breed contempt

In the consciousness of the truth he has perceived, man now sees everywhere only the awfulness or the absurdity of existence and loathing seizes him.

These are only words, not incisions or shocks, so their violence may be harder to see...a man's wrist lifts as he pours water from a pitcher, making it seem as if water, wrist, world, exist so this angle can be. A parallelogram of moonlight reads the bumps on his back as he sleeps in my arms. When I fix on these images, I know that to transform the desire they embody into loathing would be a violence as sure as a knife across a painting

We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.

Rock star. The words are so full of smoke and mirrors that it's impossible to find a real person behind them. But I am a rock star. I have the bank account of a rock star and the platinum records of a rock star and the girlfriend of a rock star. But I fucking hate that term, and hearing Mia pin it on me ups the level of my loathing to a new stratosphere.

The loathing of mankind is a force that surprises and overwhelms one, fed by hundreds of springs concealed his subconsciousness. One only detects its presence after having long entertained it unawares.

That's how vile i am! I live Ireland, I breathe Ireland, and Christ how I loathe it, I wish I were a bloody Scot, that's how bloody awful it is being Irish!

That's how vile I am! I live Ireland, I breathe Ireland, and Christ how I loathe it, I wish I were a bloody Scot, that's how bloody awful it is being Irish! I think I hate Ireland more than I hate the theatre, and that's saying something!

No one likes to be condescended to, so it's hardly surprising that so many high school students develop a loathing for the modernist novels they're forced to read in senior English and go to the movies instead. (Movies have plots, after all.) They're being good postmodernists.

She gives me a look filled with loathing, like I'm the biggest drag possible on her life. I wonder if this is what it's like to have an older sister who really hates you.

Desperate feelings can swivel into loathing.

Pop quizzes were killers. Like ambushing assassins they elicited fear and loathing in the prey, and a certain heady power in the hunter.

I knew a time when Europe feasted well: bodies were munched in thousands, vintage blood so blithely flowed that even the dull mud grew greedy, and ate men; ... Long revel, but at last to loathing turned, and through after-dinner speeches yawned those who still waked to hear them. No one claps. Come, Time, 'tis time to bear away the scraps! - Opus 7

For ten years Dublin's been changing faster than our minds can handle. The economic boom has given us too many people with helicopters and too many crushed into cockroachy flats from hell, way too many loathing their lives in fluorescent cubicles, enduring for the weekend and then starting all over again, and we're fracturing under the weight of it.

Have you learned nothing of mortals over the centuries? They fear and loathe what they do not understand. They destroy each other using anything for an excuse.

Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae.

She looked at him with loathing. "I knew you were crazy," she said. "But I didn't realize you were absolutely, spectactularly out of your goddamned mind.

Everyone says they only hate me because I annihilated hope and butchered our future, but I know better, and anyway, it's a lie. Some people are just born to be despised. The Loathing of Tetley began small and grew bigger and bigger, like the Thames, until it swallowed me whole.

I loathe my body. The liver spots, the sagging flesh.

Like every man of sense and good feeling, I abominate work.

There have been times recently, since the begining of our troubles, when the site of David awake active, conscious, walking and talking has made me want to retch, so acute is my loathing of him.

Love faded, or flipped over into loathing. Or settled somewhere in between into a kind of grinding detachment. It could snap like a dry twig, with one careless step.

I flopped back onto my pillows. I wanted to begin loathing the new day in comfort.