Hate My Father Quotes & Sayings

The way I see Jesus has not changed much at all since I was a child, but my imprisonment and all that followed made me love Him even more. His being the Son of God makes sense to me, because I believe God to be loving, just, forgiving, and merciful. I also believe that He respects free will. After all, He has given it to us so that we can choose to love or hate Him, do good or evil. But is it fair for a loving God to sit on His throne in Heaven and let us struggle and suffer on our own? Would any good father abandon His children this way? It makes perfect sense to me that God decided to come among us, live like us, and die a horribly painful death after being tortured. This is a God I can love with all my heart. A God who sets an example. A God who has bled and whose heart has been broken. This is who Jesus is to me. I don't pretend that I understand the Holy Trinity. But I understand love and sacrifice. I understand faithfulness. — Marina Nemat

Throughout his job ordeal, my father never complained. He remained an Iranian who loved his native country but who also believed in American ideals. He only said how sad it was that people so easily hate an entire population simply because of the actions of a few. And what a waste it is to hate, he always said. What a waste. — Firoozeh Dumas

OK Computer? More like No Thank You Computers. They killed my father, and I hate them. — Thom Yorke

I have hated you in every hour that has gone by, I hate you so that I would happily give my life for your death, and happily go to my own doom if only I could witness yours, take you with me into the depths. When I let this hate free, I am almost overcome by it, but I cannot change this and do not really know how it could be otherwise. Let no one deprecate this, nor fool himself about the power of such hatred. Hate drives to reality. Hate is the father of the action. The way out of our defiled and desecrated house is through the command to hate Satan. Only so will be earn the right to search in the darkness for the way of love.
In our hatred, we are like bees who must pay with their lives for the use of their stingers. — Friedrich Reck-Malleczewen

I have seen them stagger out of their movie palaces and blink their empty eyes in the face of reality once more, and stagger home, to read the Times, to find out what's going on in the world. I have vomited at their newspapers, read their literature, observed their customs, eaten their food, desired their women, gaped at their art. But I am poor, and my name ends with a soft vowel, and they hate me and my father, and my father's father, and they would have my blood and put me down, but they are old now, dying in the sun and in the hot dust of the road, and I am young and full of hope and love for my country and my times, and when I say Greaser to you it is not my heart that speaks, but the quivering of an old wound, and I am ashamed of the terrible thing I have done. — John Fante

These are the women my father warned me about. The drug-and-asshole-addled women who sit in the dark, hard up and lovesick, chainsmoking cigarettes, phones pressed to their ears, speed-dialing K-Earth 101 FM, the oldies station, so they can request Nina Simone or the Shirelles' "This is Dedicated to the One I Love," aka "This Is Dedicated to Niggers That Beat Me Senseless and Leave". "Stay away from bitches who love Nina Simone and have faggots for best friends," he'd say. "They hate men. — Paul Beatty

My father hated radio and could not wait for television to be invented so he could hate that too. — Peter De Vries

For even in hell, I still have faith, To one day be free with my father at the gates, But make no mistakes, Ill show you what time takes, To be a success on earth, mixed with all the hate, I stand on my pivot, my life you cannot live it For the things that Ive seen have been too damn explicit. — Kid Cudi

This political climate today reminds me of what my father must have gone through in 1942, when the winds of war and fires of hate were surrounding him. We have a candidate for the presidency of the United States, Donald Trump, using the same rhetoric that my father must have heard from elected officials. — George Takei

How can she stand up there so tall as she's telling us how her mother beat her and her father molested her when she was a little girl? How is it possible for her to look so proud? How is she not being consumed by shame? She should be disintegrating before our eyes. She should be struck by lightning, and God's big, angry, booming voice should be shaking the room with "How dare you? I told you never to tell." But that's not her God, she says. Her God is loving and kind and wants what's best for her. Her God loves peace and serenity and forgiveness. Her God doesn't make her keep secrets. I thought I knew God all my life, but maybe it was some other guy the whole time. I want this God. I want Val's God. I want a God who doesn't make me jump through hoops and hate myself to earn his love. — Amy Reed

If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. — Anonymous

I was not that man: I didn't hate and fear all women. I was a one-woman misogynist. If I despised only Amy, focused all my fury and rage and venom on the one woman who deserved it, that didn't make me my father. That made me sane. — Gillian Flynn

My mother, my father, I love 'em, I hate 'em, wish god I didnt have 'em, but thank god that he made 'em — DMX

When man don't love you, more you try, more he hate you, man like that. If you love them they treat you bad, if you don't love them they after you night and day bothering your soul case out. I hear about you and your husband,' she said.
'But I cannot go. He is my husband after all.'
She spat over her shoulder. 'All women, all colours, nothing but fools. Three children I have. One living in this world, each one a different father, but no husband, I thank my God. I keep my money. I don't give it to no worthless man.'
'When must I go, where must I go?'
'But look me trouble, a rich white girl like you and more foolish than the rest. A man don't treat you good, pick up your skirt and walk out. Do it and he come after you. — Jean Rhys

As hard as I fought to hold on to my anger, to continue to hate my dad, the tugging of the good memories eventually found an inroad to my heart. No one is all good or all bad. The reality that my father would forever be a part of me was inescapable. A big part of making peace with myself was rediscovering the good in him and claiming that as my inheritance. The act of forgiving wasn't like flipping a switch - forgiven . . . unforgiven . . . forgiven . . . unforgiven . . . forgiven. — Mahtob Mahmoody

Faith, if the truth were known, I was begot
After some gluttonous dinner; some stirring dish
Was my first father. When deep healths went round,
And ladies' cheeks were painted red with wine,
Their tongues as short and nimble as their heels,
Uttering words sweet and thick, and when they rose
Were marrily disposed to fall again:
Oh, damnation met
The sin of feasts, drunken adultery!
I feel it swell me; my revenge is just:
I was begot in impudent wine and lust
( ... )
As for my brother, the duke's only son,
Whose birth is more beholding to report
Than mine, and yet perhaps as falsely sown,
I'll loose my days upon him, hate all I. — Thomas Middleton

I remembered seeing a media channel where they showed picture after picture of food items I had never seen before in my life. When I asked my father what it was, he said they called it the "Two Minutes' Hate. — Project Itoh

She dared to cry? On this day of all days? I was the one who would be married at sunset, and I hadn't let myself cry in five years.
There was ice in my lungs and in my heart. I was floating. I was swept away, and out of the cold I spoke to her in a voice as soft as snow, the gentle and obedient voice I had used to consent to every order that Father and Aunt Telomache ever gave me, every order that they would never give Astraia because they actually loved her.
"You know, that Rhyme is a lie that Aunt Telomache only told you because you weren't strong enough to bear the truth."
I had thought the words so often, they felt like nothing in my mouth, like no more than a breath of air, and as easily as breathing I went on.
"The truth is, Mother died because of you, and now I have to die for your sake, too. And neither one of us will ever forgive you."
Then I shoved her aside and strode out of the room. — Rosamund Hodge

Oh, Myr," he chokes out. "I hate having to ask this of you ... "
He glances towards the car again, and I crouch down in the shadows, hoping it's too dark for him to see whether the window is open or closed. The woman pats his arm, cradling her hand against his elbow.
"You know I'd do anything for you and Hil," she says. I like her voice. It's throaty and rich.
"You'd do anything?" my father repeats numbly. "Even now? After -?"
"Even now," the woman says firmly. — Margaret Peterson Haddix

When you have a despicable person as a parent, I truly believe you can't escape hating any part of yourself that resembles him or her. Whether it's a physical similarity, a talent, a propensity or an inclination that you share, all commonalities are abhorrent to you.
I look like my father. I have his thick dark hair and bright blue eyes. I have my mother's nose, but I have my father's wide, full mouth and his height. I am his child, and I hate the man. I hate that I look like him. — Penny Reid

Your God loves your people and hates mine; he folds his strong arms lovingly around the white man and leads him as a father leads his infant son, but he has forsaken his red children; he makes your people wax strong every day, and soon they will fill the land; while my people are ebbing away like a fast-receding tide, that will never flow again. The white man's God cannot love his red children or he would protect them. They seem to be orphans who can look nowhere for help. — Chief Seattle

Locked together in hatred. But I can't hate you Louis. Louis my love, I was mortal till you gave me your immortal kiss. You became my mother, and my father, and so I'm yours forever. But now it's time to end it, Louis. Now it's time to leave him. - Claudia, 'Interview with a Vampire — Anne Rice

A woman has her Juno, just as a man has his Genius; they are names for the sacred power, the divine spark we each of us have in us. My Juno can't "get into" me, it is already my deepest self. The poet was speaking of Juno as if it were a person, a woman, with likes and dislikes: a jealous woman.
The world is sacred, of course, it is full of gods, numina, great powers and presences. We give some of them names
Mars of the fields and the war, Vesta the fire, Ceres the grain, Mother Tellus the earth, the Penates of the storehouse. The rivers, the springs. And in the storm cloud and the light is the great power called the father god. But they aren't people. They don't love and hate, they aren't for or against. They accept the worship due them, which augments their power, through which we live. — Ursula K. Le Guin

I grew silent and reserved as the nature of the world in which I lived became plain and undeniable; the bleakness of the future affected my will to study. Granny had already thrown out hints that it was time for me to be on my own. But what had I learned so far that would help me to make a living? Nothing. I could be a porter like my father before me, but what else? And the problem of living as a Negro was cold and hard. What was it that made the hate of whites for blacks so steady, seemingly so woven into the texture of things? What kind of life was possible under that hate? How had this — Richard Wright

My father used to claim that inanimate objects hate us and plot our downfall behind our backs. He was probably right. — Michael Marshall Smith

to the Piazzale Loreto and machine-gunned them to death. I saw . . ." He broke down. "Tullio was one of them." Uncle Albert and his father looked gut-shot. Aunt Greta said, "That's not true! You must have seen someone else." Pino, crying, said, "It was him. Tullio was so brave. Yelling at the men who were about to shoot him, calling them cowards . . . and . . . oh God, it was . . . horrible." He went to his father and hugged him while Uncle Albert held Aunt Greta, who had turned hysterical. "I hate them," she said. "My own people and I hate them." When she'd calmed down, Uncle Albert said, "I have to go tell his mother." "She — Mark T. Sullivan

I hate the rich snots here with a fervent passion I usually reserve only for dental work and my father. — John Green

My children hate me being such a big star. It's very hard for them to have a father who is always in the public eye. — Brian May

Yes,' said Catherine, stroking his long soft hair, 'if I could only get papa's consent, I'd spend half my time with you - Pretty Linton! I wish you were my brother.'
'And then you would like me as well as your father?' observed he more cheerfully. 'But papa says you would love me better than him, and all the world, if you were my wife-so I'd rather you were that!'
'No! I should never love anybody better than papa,' she returned gravely. 'And people hate their wives, sometimes; but not their sisters and brothers, and if you were the latter, you would live with us, and papa would be as fond of you, as he is of me. — Emily Bronte

My father was my mother's home, the one place that she knew she could be safe. It was all a journey of faith for him, and I think he felt like if you don't find more love and understanding at the end of a journey like that, then you are lost - and if you only find hate and resentment, it will destroy you. I believe that. — Rula Jebreal

My father was a clergyman and always said: 'Hate the sin but love the sinner.' — George McGovern

I never knew my father, and I'd hate to repeat that kind of cycle with my own children, because I'd also want to be there for them no matter what. — Mickey Rourke

I hate pants. This is something I have inherited from my father. He despised pants, and my mother was never allowed to wear them at home. We're talking about a different time period now, when the man was much more the ruler of the house. But I still feel that way, and neither my mother nor Maria is allowed to go out with me in pants. — Arnold Schwarzenegger

Changing your name, it doesn't change your nature. Look at Sebastian - Jonathan. Calling himself Sebastian didn't make any difference in the end. I wanted to spurn the Herondale name because I thought I hated my father, but I don't hate him. He might have been weak and have made the wrong decisions, but he knew it. There's no reason for me to hate him. And there have been generations of Herondales before him - it's a family that's done a lot of good - and to let their whole house fall just to get back at my father would be a waste. — Cassandra Clare

Questioner: Why do we love our mothers so much? KRISHNAMURTI: Do you love your mother if you hate your father? Listen carefully. When you love somebody very much, do you exclude others from that love? If you really love your mother, don't you also love your father, your aunt, your neighbour, your servant? Don't you have the feeling of love first, and then the love of someone in particular? When you say, "I love my mother very much," are you not being considerate of her? Can you then give her a lot of meaningless trouble? And if you are considerate of your mother, are you not also considerate of your brother, your sister, your neighbour? Otherwise you don't really love your mother; it is just a word, a convenience. — Jiddu Krishnamurti

[...] my father staggering in drunk, beating my mother, the shame and hate in him burning, burning. Then he'd hit my brothers. And then me whom it was said he loved most. He'd save me for last, when his anger was ashes, when the fire was hottest. And then he's hold me, 'Sugar, sugar', he's croon, the tears so thick they made a lake on the linoleum floor. — Joy Harjo

I'm from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania," Sistine said, "home of the Liberty Bell, and I hate the South because the people in it are ignorant. And I'm not staying here in Lister. My father is coming to get me next week." She looked around the room defiantly. "Well," said Mrs. Soames, "thank you very much for introducing yourself, Sistine Bailey. You may take your seat before you put your foot in your mouth any farther." The — Kate DiCamillo

He walked over to Isaac and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Dude, pillows don't break. Try something that breaks."
Isaac reached for a basketball trophy from the shelf above the bed and then held it over his head as if waiting for permission.
"Yes," Augustus said. "Yes!" The trophy smashed against the floor, the plastic basketball player's arm splintering off, still grasping its ball. Isaac stomped on the trophy.
"Yes!" Augustus said. "Get it!" And then back to me, "I've been looking for a way to tell my father that I actually sort of hate basketball, and I think we've found it. — John Green

And what does he feel?"
"He feels uneasy. A little afaid. Angry. Oddly, a hint of pride."
"Good," Henry said. "ANd where are you?"
"Backstage."
Henry shook his head gravely. "THere's no such thing as backstage. The play begins, and there's only the world it dramatizes. Now, where are you?"
"With my father, the president. In his chambers."
"Right. With me. Your father. And now
this is important
do you love me?"
Nelson considered this; or rather, Nelson, as Alejo, considered this.
"Yes," he said after a moment. "I do."
"Good. Remember that. In every scene
even when you hate me, you also love me. That's why it hurts. Got it?"
Nelson said that he did.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because it does hurt," Henry said. "DOn't forget that. It's supposed to. Always. — Daniel Alarcon

Up and down," Meera would sigh sometimes as they walked, "then down and up. Then up and down again. I hate these stupid mountains of yours, Prince Bran."
"Yesterday you said you loved them."
"Oh, I do. My lord father told me about mountains, but I never saw one till now. I love them more than I can say."
Bran made a face at her. "But you just said you hated them."
"Why can't it be both?" Meera reached up to pinch his nose.
"Because they're different," he insisted. "Like night and day, or ice and fire."
"If ice can burn," said Jojen in his solemn voice, "then love and hate can mate. Mountain or marsh, it makes no matter. The land is one."
"One," his sister agreed, "but over wrinkled. — George R R Martin

I am penitent," says Vohannes. "I am penitent for all the relationships this shame has ruined. I am penitent that I've allowed my shame and unhappiness to spread to others. I've fucked men and I've fucked women, Father Kolkan. I have sucked numerous pricks, and I have had my prick sucked my numerous people. I have fucked and been fucked. And it was lovely, really lovely. I had an excellent time doing it, and I would gladly do it again. I really would." He laughs. "I have been lucky enough to find and meet and come to hold beautiful people in my arms - honestly, some beautiful, lovely, brilliant people - and I am filled with regret that my awful self-hate drove them away. — Robert Jackson Bennett

Like most guys, I had bought into the stereotype that all feminists were white, lesbian, unattractive male bashers who hated all men. But after reading the work of these black feminists, I realized that this was far from the truth. After digging into their work, I came to really respect the intelligence, courage and honesty of these women.
Feminists did not hate men. In fact, they loved men. But just as my father had silenced my mother during their arguments to avoid hearing her gripes, men silenced feminists by belittling them in order to dodge hearing the truth about who we are. — Byron Hurt

Ah sir," replied Caderousse, "we cannot console those who will not be consoled, and he was one of these; besides, I know not why, but he seemed to dislike seeing me. One night, however, I heard his sobs, and I could not resist my desire to go up to him, but when I reached his door he was no longer weeping but praying.
I cannot now repeat to you, sir, all the eloquent words and imploring language he made use of; it was more than piety, it was more than grief, and I, who am no canter, and hate the Jesuits, said then to myself, 'It is really well, and I am very glad that I have not any children; for if I were a father and felt such excessive grief as the old man does, and did not find in my memory or heart all he is now saying, I should throw myself into the sea at once, for I could not bear it. — Alexandre Dumas

If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. — Francis Chan

I keep my eyes closed as tightly as I can, but in my mind, everyone in the square looks like my father and they all have his voice. I hate you all. I imagine my hands at their throats, choking, silencing them, one by one. — Marie Lu

Climbing into bed, I slide my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling.
I have no idea who my father is.
I just had anal!
But I have no idea who my father is.
ANAL, MOTHERFUCKER!
Shit, I hate being so conflicted. — Tara Sivec

DRACO: My father thought he was protecting me. Most of the time. I think you have to make a choice - at a certain point - of the man you want to be. And I tell you that at a time you need a parent or a friend. And if you've learnt to hate your parent by then and you have no friends . . . then you're all alone. And being alone - that's so hard. I was alone. And it sent me to a truly dark place. For a long time. Tom Riddle was also a lonely child. You may not understand that, Harry, but I do - and I think Ginny does too. — Jack Thorne

Ever since I was little ... I have learned the hundred scrolls of thought, from my teachers. Of those teachings, I hate the 'Inactivity' path, the most. Fighting against humans, to gain stability, and fighting against the heavens, to open your own destiny. This is what I believed.
But, I finally understand ... If I hadn't fought, those that I called my father and brothers, would still be alive. At the very least, they would not have needed to lose their lives. If I hadn't fought, even if I wouldn't have been able to save my best friend. She would not have been driven to take her own life. If I hadn't fought, my friends would not have bet everything they had on me, and end up in a perilous place themselves ... I don't even know if they're alive. So this is what it means to be on the path of 'Inactivity'. — Da Xia

God couldn't possibly love my father and hate my mother, or vice versa; that God was bigger than our ideas about him and greater than any name we might call him. p. 6 — Roland Merullo

I once complained to my father that I didn't seem to be able to do things the same way other people did. Dad's advice? 'Margo, don't be a sheep.People hate sheep. They eat sheep.' — Margo Kaufman

Well he could hate too, hate was easy, hate would fuel him if his mother's love could not. Loyalty is our strength. He snorted a silent laughed of derision. Let loyalty be your strength, Father. My hate for you will be mine. — Anthony Ryan

There have been times I've wondered if I could ever allow myself to trust a guy. For the most part, I hate men because the only example I have is my father. But spending all this time with Atlas is changing me. Not in a huge way, I don't think. I still distrust most people. But Atlas is changing me enough to believe that maybe he's an exception to the norm — Colleen Hoover

I can well imagine the extent of his relationship with my father,' Warner says, shaking his head. 'And that he has managed to survive it at all, and with more humanity than I did?' A pause. 'No,' he says. 'I cannot hate him. And I would be lying if I said I didn't admire him. — Tahereh Mafi

Not all will believe in my teaching. And they who will not believe, will hate it; because it bereaves them of that which they love, and strife will come of it. My teaching, like fire, will kindle the world. And from it strife must arise in the world. Strife will arise in every house. Father against son, mother against daughter; and their kin will become haters of them who understand my teaching, and they will be killed. Because, for him who shall understand my teaching, neither his father, nor his mother, nor wife, nor children, nor all his property, will have any weight. — Leo Tolstoy

There are three things you should know about me, love." He steps forward.
"The first," he says, "is that I hate my father more than you might ever be capable of understanding."
He clears his throat.
"Second, is that I am an unapologetically selfish person, who, in almost every situation, makes decisions based entirely on self-interest. And third." A pause as he looks down. Laughs a little.
"I never had any intention of using you as a weapon. — Tahereh Mafi

That was when I saw their hate come out. They fought on the front lawn. Balloons and my birthday cake stood witness as I watched every regretful blow from my mother. I knew my sister was at war with my mother, but I never knew what her cruelty was capable of. My mother's military was larger than Jayme's. My mother already had my father, and she had her five children, including me. — Joseph McGinnis

Jalal shook his head and moved toward Khalid. "She is. Please give her a chance to explain."
"Leave," Khalid commanded quietly.
"Don't let your fear and your distrust ruin this."
His uncle took Jalal by the shoulder.
"She loves you!" Jalal continued, his tone heedless. "This is not what it seems. Maybe it began as something else, but I would bet my life on what it is now. She loves you. Please don't fall to hate. You're not your father. You are so much more. She is so much more. — Renee Ahdieh

For a moment I hate myself for how I still obey my father without question. Like I'm still a child. — Celia Aaron

I hated my father long before I knew there was a word for hate. — Pat Conroy

When I was a little boy and played Liebestraum, my father used to hit me on the head with a newspaper every time I slopped the cadenza ... I hate Liebestraum. — Victor Borge

You're thinking I'm a changed man. That God has changed me. And that regardless of the fact that my father has left so much damage in his wake, I shouldn't hate him for it. You're telling me to think to the future ... That I shouldn't hold bitterness against the father who left ... And you hope that i can finally forgive him, which is something I've never quite been able to do." "Goodness," Sera beamed back at him. "I thought all that? I'm much wiser than I give myself credit for. — Kristy Cambron

There's something about knowing that I broke my father's heart that makes me hate myself a little more than I already do. — Katja Millay

Looked from different aspects hate just cause more problems it doesn't solve. I hate dogs, I hate black people, I hate yellow people, I hate this person, I hate my father, I hate my mother. And in the end what happens??
It gets even more worse, what are you planning better life or a worse life - that's my question?! — Deyth Banger

So since we've clearly created a monster, which of us is Dr. Frankenstein, and who gets to be Igor?" I asked, hoping to inject a little levity.
"I'm definitely the doctor. He had the nicer ass."
"I hate to be a bubble burster, but you're a disembodied AI; you don't have an ass."
"I have since I met you."
"Aw. And you do have quite a mainframe on you." I realized after saying it how weird that was, since technically her mainframe was my mainframe, and I really didn't want to dwell on how incestuous that was. "But what if I'm not ready to be a father?"
"Well, you're already a bother, so all you'd really need to do is give an F."
"That was low, and given how terrible my standards are, you should recognize what kind of an insult that really is."
"Don't be a jerk. It's unbecoming."
"Well, apparently I'm becoming a jerk. Were you expecting a pumpkin? — Nicolas Wilson

I wondered what my father had looked like that day, how he had felt, marrying the lively and beautiful girl who was my mother. I wondered what his life was like now. Did he ever think of us? I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't; I didn't know him well enough. Instead, I wondered about him occasionally, with a confused kind of longing. There was a place inside me carved out for him; I didn't want it to be there, but it was. Once, at the hardware store, Brooks had shown me how to use a drill. I'd made a tiny hole that went deep. The place for my father was like that. — Elizabeth Berg

A woman's reputation is her worth ... IT is the way it is. You may hate me for saying so, but there is the truth. Do you not remember that this is how our mother died? She would still be here and Father would be well and none of this would ever have happened if she had simply lived according to the time-trusted codes of society.'
Perhaps it proved impossible. Perhaps she could not fit within so tight a corset. Perhaps I am the same.'
One does not have to like the rules, Gemma. But one does need to adhere to them. That is what makes civilization. Do you think I agree with every ... decision made by my superiors — Libba Bray

This was the court of Bharata, a city like a bone spur - tacked on like an afterthought. Its demons were different: harem wives with jewels in their hair hair and hate in their heart, courtiers with mouths full of lies, a father who knew me only as a colored stone around his neck. Those were the monsters I knew. My world didn't have room for more. — Roshani Chokshi

Just as people asked 'Why do they hate us?' after 9/11, one evening I asked my father, 'Why did they do this to us?' He took a long breath and paused, deeply concerned about what he was about to say. 'The Muslims bombed us because we are Christians. They want us dead because they hate us' This hate was not because we had armies in the Middle East or because we supported Israel or for any of the reasons people easily turn to today. It was because we were Christians, infidels. As a child, I was just too young to understand all the political implications, but I understood one thing: people wanted to kill me simply because I was a Christian. — Brigitte Gabriel