Hate Quotes - Page 333

Censorship makes me really angry. I even hate it when people censor themselves.

We Americans claim to be a peace-loving people. We hate bloodshed; we are opposed to violence. Yet we go into spasms of joy over the possibility of projecting dynamite bombs from flying machines upon helpless citizens. We are ready to hang, electrocute, or lynch anyone, who, from economic necessity, will risk his own life in the attempt upon that of some industrial magnate. Yet our hearts swell with pride at the thought that America is becoming the most powerful nation on earth, and that she will eventually plant her iron foot on the necks of all other nations. Such is the logic of patriotism.

I hate desks; they make me feel like a child doing homework.

I hate a macho sort who doesn't cry. They have to be a bit sensitive, don't they? They have to be a bit sensitive, don't they?

I make music to make you sick of fake music, hate music like devil worshippin Satan music. So say your prayers, your Hail Marys and Jesuses. Take two sticks, tape 'em together and make a crucifix.

Looking back, I question whether I really loved Nate, or just the security of our relationship. I wonder if my feelings for him didn’t have a lot to do with hating my job. From the bar exam through that first hellish year as an associate, Nate was my escape. And sometimes that can feel an awful lot like love.

Throughout the ordeal, I learned that getting mad was easier than being sad. Anger was something I could control. I could settle into an easy rhythm of blame and hate. Focus my energy on something than the ache in my heart.

I remember that my mother once told me that the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference.

Mine Enemy is growing old -- I have at last Revenge -- The Palate of the Hate departs -- If any would avenge Let him be quick -- the Viand flits -- It is a faded Meat -- Anger as soon as fed is dead -- 'Tis starving makes it fat

I usually hate going around and doing press. It sort of stresses me out.

He'll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to loved or hated again.

I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!

Whatever happens, you can always make it back somehow!

As we have seen so clearly demonstrated in Europe, hate breeds hate and the vicious circle revolves with all its attending madness.

I'd hate it to become style over substance, I'd hate people to start putting me in a magazine article about my style. I don't like dressing up in something I'm not necessarily comfortable in just to make it more of a show. I want the power to come from what I sing about and how I sing.

I hate how box-office failures are blamed on an actress, yet I don't see a box-office failure blamed on men.

I hate how box office failures are blamed on an actress, yet I don’t see a box office failure blamed on men. I think a lot of the time in films, men get roles where they create their own destiny and women are just tools, supporters for that. I guess it’s because we live in a patriarchal society, where feminism is a dirty word.

I'm in love. And I like how that feels. And I hate how that feels. Because love is an invention of fiction writers.

I don’t think God has a gender. I don’t think God hates gays or Democrats, and I don’t think you have to be Born Again to find your way to Heaven. I believe God expects us to care for one another, even those who are different. God wants us to be good stewards of this planet, and that means not wasting or violating its resources. Most of all, it means not blowing it up. Especially not in God’s name.

What I hated even more than the conflict was the lurid spectacle of a world of unreason.

Don't you hate when people are late to work. And they always have the worst excuses. "Oh, I'm sorry I'm late, traffic." "Traffic, huh? How do you think I got here; helicoptered in!?"

Who's to say what's better or worse anyway? Who's to even say what's normal or average? We're all different people and we're allowed to be different from on another. If someone ever says you're weird, say thank you. And then curtsy. No, don't curtsy. That might be too weird. Bow. And tip your imaginary hate. That'll show them.

You don't even have to hate to have a perfectly miserable time.

I hate being called "Liz", because it can sound like such a hiss.

Do you really think he was flirting with me?" "Let's see. He gave you candy you hate - I saw your face - and a CD of songs..." He looks at the CD. "All of these are, like, twenty years old at least. Figures. Oh, and he groped your face. Sounds like true love to me.