He Hate Me Quotes & Sayings

He thinks men like me weak. He thinks me dumb, feeble, subhuman. I was not raised in palaces. I did not ride horses through meadows and eat meals of hummingbird tongues. I was forged in the bowels of this hard world. Sharpened by hate. Strengthened by love. He is wrong. None of them will survive. — Pierce Brown

Giffen's large hand is cupping my chin as he kneels in front of my jump seat. "Kricket," he says while shaking my head to try to get a response from me. Groaning, I mutter, "Are you really shaking my head right now? It already hurts like a spix kicked it, so stop!" "Getting in touch with your spirit animal, were you?" His question is flippant, but there's relief in his tone that he can't hide. "Yeah, it said to give you this." I raise my middle finger at him. He stares at it, because the gesture means nothing to him. "I should take your finger?" he asks. "I hate you,"
Bartol, Amy A. (2015-03-31). Sea of Stars (The Kricket Series Book 2) (p. 285). 47North. Kindle Edition. — Amy A. Bartol

I hate to tell you this," she said with an apologetic smile, "but I don't think you're as special as you think you are."
"That only hurts because it's true. You really like me? A little?"
"Un peu. Enough that I want to talk to you instead of letting me fuck you," she said.
"Oh," he said, and weighed his words. "But we are still going to fuck, right?"
Juliette smiled again. And in her flawless elegant Frenchy she purred two beautiful words.
"Bien sur."
Of course. — Tiffany Reisz

Orell had been slain by the turncloak crow Jon Snow, and his hate for his killer had been so strong that Varamyr found himself hating the beastling boy as well. He had known what Snow was the moment he saw that great white direwolf stalking silent at his side. One skinchanger can always sense another. Mance should have let me take the direwolf. There would be a second life worthy of a king. He could have done it, he did not doubt. The gift was strong in Snow, but the youth was untaught, still fighting his nature when he should have gloried in it. — George R R Martin

He buys Playboy magazines and looks through them once, then gives them to me. That's what it's like to be rich.
Here's what it's like to be poor. Your wife leaves you because you can't find a job because there aren't any jobs to find. You empty the jar of pennies on the mantel to buy cigarettes. You hate to answer the phone; it can't possibly be good news. When your friends invite you out, you don't go. After a while, they stop inviting. You owe them money, and sometimes they ask for it. You tell them you'll see what you can scrape up.
Which is this: nothing. — Tom Franklin

You doona hate me for not being able to return you?" He paused for emphasis. "Ever, Gwen. I can't return you ever. — Karen Marie Moning

That happened when I was a freshman in high school. The guy reading it [the Bible] was dating my older sister. I thought he was the cutest thing that had ever happened in Nashville. He was nine years older than me and I thought, 'Mimi, I hate to do this to you, but I'm going to steal this guy away.' So I went to this Bible study thinking I was going to make this guy fall in love with me. I was fourteen. Hey, you know. But I was so overwhelmed by what they were talking about at this Bible study. I became a very serious, committed Christian. — Amy Grant

He's gonna be fine," I confirmed. "Can we see him?" Iggy asked. "Ig, I hate to break this to you, but you're blind," I said, my relief making me tease him. "However, in a little while you can go listen to him breathe and maybe talk to him. — James Patterson

Ah! but a man cannot be held to write down in cold blood the wild and black thoughts that storm his brain when an uncontrolled passion has battered a breach for them. Yet, unless he sets up as a saint, he need not hate himself for them. He is better employed, as it humbly seems to me, in giving thanks that power to resist was given to him ... — Anthony Hope

Nicole's door opened, and she stomped down the hall. "I have something to say," she said, giving him the Slitty Eyes of Death. "You're totally unfair, and if I run away, you shouldn't be surprised." "Don't make me put a computer chip in your ear," Liam answered. "It's not funny! I hate you." "Well, I love you, even if you did ruin my life by turning into a teenager," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Did you study for your test?" "Yes." "Good." He looked at his daughter - so much like Emma, way too pretty. Why weren't there convent schools anymore? Or chastity belts? "Want some supper? I saved your plate." She rolled her eyes with all the melodrama a teenager could muster. "Fine. I may as well become a fat pig since I can't ever go on a date." "That's my girl," he said and, grinning, got up to heat up her dinner. — Kristan Higgins

It was then that he started his novel The People Immortal, and when I read it later, many of its pages seemed to me very familiar. He found himself as a writer during the war. His pre-war books were nothing more than searching for his theme and language. He was a true internationalist and reproached me frequently for saying "Germans" instead of "Hitler's men" when describing the atrocities of the occupiers.' Ehrenburg was persuaded that it was Grossman's all-embracing world view which made the xenophobic Stalin hate him. — Vasily Grossman

Kitty got up to fetch a table, and, as she passed, her eyes met Levin's. She felt for him with her whole heart, the more because she was pitying him for a suffering of which she was herself the cause. "If you can forgive me, forgive me," said her eyes, "I am so happy."
"I hate them all, and you, and myself," his eyes responded, and he took up his hat. But he was not destined to escape. Just as they were arranging themselves round the table, and Levin was on the point of retiring, the old Prince came in, and, after greeting the ladies, addressed Levin. — Leo Tolstoy

I just hate to see you like this," he says. "Isn't there anything I can do?"

You could murder Vaughn. You could free Gabriel. You could help repair the damage that's been done to our home. By you.

This room is surely being recorded, though, and all I say is, "No."

He tilts my chin, and then he cups his hands around my ear and whispers, "I don't believe that."

I look at him, and I see the same look in his eyes as on the morning when I told him I was going to bring Linden home. Vaughn may be Rowan's benefactor, but I'm his twin sister. Even after this time spent apart, he can read me. — Lauren DeStefano

Negative feedback is better that none. I would rather have a man hate me than overlook me. As long as he hates me I make a difference. — Hugh Prather

There in bed, happiness comes over me. Not like something that belongs to me, but like a wheel of fire rolling through the room and the world. For a moment I think I'll manage to let it pass and be able to lie there, aware of what I have, and not wish for anything more. The next moment I want to hang on. I want it to continue. He has to lie beside me tomorrow, too. This is my chance. My only, my last chance. I swing my legs onto the floor. Now I'm panic-stricken. This is what I've been working to avoid for thirty-seven years. I've systematically practiced the only thing in the world that is worth learning. How to renounce. I've stopped hoping for anything. When experienced humility becomes an Olympic discipline, I'll be on the national team. I've never had any patience for other people's unhappy love affairs. I hate their weakness. — Peter Hoeg

Current relationship status?" Her voice cut like an arctic chill blowing through the room.
"If you mean me, then you're not my type. If you mean my dad, he's single, but I don't think you're his type either," I said with a small smile. Mercy didn't find it amusing. A small blue vein in her forehead started throbbing like crazy ... "Actually, come to think of it, I don't think he has a type. I've never seen him with a woman.
Mercy, I hate to break it to you, but there's a very real possibility my dad is gay. — Jus Accardo

Let me rephrase," he added, sharper than barbed steel. "I'm coming with you."
"Excuse me?" Solara came to a sudden stop, forcing him to do the same. "You'll go wherever I send you."
"I'm not - "
"Don't interrupt."
He sealed his lips shut.
"Our relationship is simple," she told him. "I say 'Jump,' and you say 'Through which window, Miss Brooks?' You don't make demands of me. Are we clear? — Melissa Landers

Don't hate me, Lena," he whispered. "You want to be mad at me when I do dumb things, that's fine. But don't ever hate me. I couldn't take that, not from you. — Kylie Scott

You think I can't pull it off, don't you? You think I'll look stupid next to someone like Luke. You think he's too good for me." This is my chance. I should say yes and make her hate me, kill her last bit of hope. Easy. Like staking a vamp. "I think you'll look beautiful." I turn away. "No one's too good for you. No one's good enough. — Laura Bradley Rede

I love that sound,' he mumbled into her hair. 'Blackbirds at dawn.'
'I hate it. Makes me think I've done something I'll regret. — David Nicholls

Sat in the Jacuzzi last night looking at the dark recesses of the nozzles. Remembering the story I wrote about spiders nesting there. Multifaceted eyes watching me watching them, almost like when you set two mirrors parallel to each other, accept this infinity ends up in some fuzzy creature's belly. I have a nice picture of a Hobo spider in my backyard, venom dripping off one of those nasty fangs of theirs. Son of a bitch is looking at me and his mouth is watering waiting for me to stick my hand under the rock he's nested in. I hate it when you spray a spider with insecticide and it curls up for a few minutes, then uncurls and staggers home. I'm like an arachnid cheap date that sucks!!
I just picture the spider staggering into the nest and the female spider asking, "Is that Raid I smell on you?"
The spider just smiles (interesting thing to picture) and passes out. — Neil Leckman

That mirror, that's one I hate to let go, he said. That was my daughter's the whole time she was growing up. It probably seen her more than me
everything from a baby up to twenty years old. Sometimes I wonder if all that might still be inside it. Got to make an impression on a thing, reflecting the same person every day. — David Wroblewski

I think that every living person, every person who is awake to the functioning principles within his reality has a moment where he stops blaming the problems in the world on group thinking, on humanity and authority, and starts to face himself. I hate this more than anything. This is the hardest principle within christian spirituality for me to deal with. The problem is not out there, the problem is the needy beast of a thing living in my chest. — Donald Miller

Horgias nodded, his lips drawn back in a smile that was a wolf's snarl. 'They want us all flogged. Why us?'
'Lupus,' Syrion said. 'The other centurions hate him, even among the Fourth. He's too distant. He doesn't drink with them or whore with them. They don't know who he is, and so they hate him.'
'He loves war,' I said, who had seen the ice melt from his eyes, and the fire behind it, and these two made sense to me now. I felt the truth in my marrow, and it warmed me. 'He's bored with camp life. The Fourth are making a huge mistake giving him a reason to fight them. — M.C. Scott

I believe the Gods hate to be bored, so I do my best to amuse them. That way they smile on me. Your God,' Merlin said sourly, 'despises amusement, demanding grovelling worship instead. He must be a very sorry creature. — Bernard Cornwell

Well, at least someone around here is getting pregnant," Alexander said through clenched teeth, bending in his own stricken fury. "And it didn't take fifteen fucking years."
"Like I'd keep any baby that was yours!" cried Tatiana. "I'd take a coat hanger to it before I kept one of your babies!"
Alexander hit her so hard across the face that she reeled sideways and fell to the ground. Blinded he stood over her. Guttural sounds were coming from his throat. Her arms covered her head. "You have stepped out of all bounds, all decency," he said, yanking her up. "I can't believe how much you hate me. — Paullina Simons

I don't know why you want to hang out when I'm half asleep?"
Cooper leaned over and kissed me softly. His lips sucked at my bottom lip for a second before he pulled back and relaxed into the corner of the couch. "You pout when you sleep."
"Huh?"
"Like an angry little pout," he said, demonstrating with his lips. "It's the hottest thing I've ever seen. I thought you might give me a real talking to like my old gym teacher. Man, did that bitch hate me."
"I'm sure she had her reasons."
Cooper snorted. "Of course, you'd take a stranger's side over the guy who's feeding you."
"Maybe you called her a bitch forty times."
"Yeah, there was that. — Bijou Hunter

Why do you hate me?"
"I have no emotion about you at all, Mac. I take care of my own. You are not my own." He moved past me, pressed his palm to the door, and stood waiting for me to exit. "Barrons wants you to see your parents so as you go about your business you will remember they are here. With me."
"Lovely," I muttered.
"I suffer them to live, against my better judgment, as a favor to Barrons. He's running out of favors. Remember that. — Karen Marie Moning

Show me what a man hates and I'll show you what he is. — Marisha Pessl

I hate America. I hate this country. It's just big ideas, and stories, and people dying, and people like you. The white cracker who wrote the national anthem knew what he was doing. He set the word 'free' to a note so high nobody can reach it. That was deliberate. Nothing on earth sounds less like freedom to me. You come to room 1013 over at the hospital, I'll show you America. Terminal, crazy and mean. I live in America, that's hard enough, I don't have to love it. You do that. Everybody's got to love something. — Tony Kushner

Let's not pretend that I couldn't get you to do whatever I asked of you," he hissed, shoving harder against me when I tried breaking free again. The impact and firmnedd of his body against mine brought a sound to the surface from me. "Let's not pretend that, even though you might hate me, you wouldn't let me do anything to you I wanted." His head dropped to my neck, and the next thing I felt was his mouth warming the skin at the base of it. His mouth never touched me, just his warm breath, and even with that small intimacy, my eyes closed, my head rolled back, and I moaned again. — Nicole Williams

I knew exactly how I felt about Madoc. And I knew why I felt that way. I hated him. I hated what he did to me. But why in the hell did he hate me? — Penelope Douglas

Love is what happens when we forgive. I forgive Connor Evans. A part of me will always love him, but from this day on I won't hate him. Not for one minute. I forgive him because he gave me Max. — Karen Kingsbury

Sorry doesn't mean anything! Not when you're still with him. It's not just that you cheated - it's that he's still here, and you're still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there's nothing I can do to stop this. I can't think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You're shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it's killing me, Faythe. You're killing me. And it's only going to get worse, now that everyone knows. — Rachel Vincent

I hate fucking pussies like that." Felix reached out and shook Hector's hand. "Good for you, man. I would've cracked him too." He turned and pointed at Abel. "Let me know if you need help with that. I'll donate to the cause. We'll call it 'Cracking Down on Future Fucking Douchebag Wife Beaters of the World.' Can't think of a better charity. — Elizabeth Reyes

What did this portend? He still breathed, the instruments did not change, his heart beat on. But he called to Peter. Did this mean that he longed to live the life of his child of the mind, Young Peter? Or in some kind of delirium was he speaking to his brother the Hegemon? Or earlier, his brother as a boy. Peter, wait for me. Peter, did I do well? Peter, don't hurt me. Peter, I hate you. Peter for one smile of yours I'd die or kill. What was his message? — Orson Scott Card

Are you going to continue to scold me?" "Is that what I'm doing?" "I think so." "You're lucky I'm just scolding you." "What do you mean?" "Well, if you were mine, you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday. You didn't eat, you got drunk, you put yourself at risk." He closes his eyes, dread etched briefly on his face, and he shudders. When he opens his eyes, he glares at me. "I hate to think what could have happened to you." I scowl back at him. What is his problem? What's it to him? If I was his ... Well, I'm not. Though maybe part of me would like to be. The thought pierces through the irritation I feel at his high-handed words. I flush at the waywardness of my subconscious - she's doing her happy dance in a bright red hula skirt at the thought of being his. — E.L. James

That is a failing indeed!" cried Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me." "There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil - a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome." "And your defect is to hate everybody." "And yours," he replied with a smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them." "Do — Jane Austen

You traitorous bitch!" he yelled. "You goddamn liar!"
I laughed. "You knew I were a bitch and a liar when you married me, Guy. It's your own damn fault for agreeing to it. — A.C. Gaughen

I hate the fact that it obsesses me so much. Who're we gonna end up with?
It's a race, and everyone else is on the tracks and I'm at the wrong venue, with the wrong shoes on."
"That's rubbish. He's out there, I promise."
"How do you know?"
" I don't," said Elle firmly. " I just like to kid myself that he is. And if he's not, well, there's more to life than just hanging around ruining your life waiting for him. Much more. — Harriet Evans

To me, my Christian faith is all about being held, comforted, forgiven, strengthened, and loved
yet somehow that message gets lost on most of us, and we tend only to remember the religious nutters or the God of endless school assemblies. This is no one's fault, it is just life. Our job is to stay open and gentle, so we can hear the knocking on the door of our heart when it comes. The irony is that I never meet anyone who doesn't want to be loved or held or forgiven. Yet I meet a lot of folk who hate religion. And I so sympathize. But so did Jesus. In fact, He didn't just sympathize, He went much further. It seems more like this Jesus came to destroy religion and to bring life. — Bear Grylls

Even if he likes me, I'm not sure he'd like me naked. I hate that I'm even thinking that. I hate hating my body. Actually, I don't even hate my body. I just worry everyone else might. Because chubby girls don't get boyfriends, and they definitely don't have sex. Not in movies - not really - unless it's supposed to be a joke. And I don't want to be a joke. — Becky Albertalli

He relaxed and looked at my lips and then my eyes and then back to my lips. How do we do that? This is what we do ... back and forth, back and forth. You want me, you want him. You love me, you love him. You like me, you hate me, you want me, you don't want me, you love me ... you leave me. There's so much that went wrong before ... — S.C. Stephens

Glenn could see I was bricking it and turned round to me as I sat there, gripping the armrests.
"You all right?" he said.
"I hate flying, Boss. I'm shitting myself."
"Don't worry, Merse. It's going to be OK. We *won't* crash."
I thought, "Thank God for that. Glenn's said we're going to be safe. Nothing's going to fuck with us now. — Paul Merson

Well,
me," he said. "A
ing wizard. I hate
ing wizards!" "You shouldn't
them, then," muttered one of his henchmen, effortlessly pronouncing a row of dashes. — Terry Pratchett

Maholtz asked me, "Why do you hate me?"
I said, Everyone hates you.
"I know," he said. "I know that," he said, "but they hate me cause I scared them or had what they wanted. You weren't ever scarend of me. You never wanted what I had. Except for the sap. And then you took it, and now I don't have it, so why do you hate me?"
Maybe it's your accent.
"I'm from Pinttsburgh," he said.
Maybe you shouldn't be.
"I can't help where I'm from."
We turned at Main Hall. Feld was talking to Forrest Kenilworth and Cody. The chair sat dripping in front of the door.
So maybe it's your face. The way you look at girls like you're scheming to corner them.
"I was borng this way, though. I can't help how my face loonks."
So maybe it's all the banced thing that you say.
"They just come out of me. I'm hated, I feel it. I say those things without thinking, from hurnt. I can't help that either. It's not my faulnt."
I guess, then, I hate you for being so helpless. — Adam Levin

And then I kiss him for real, and he kisses me back, and his hands fist my hair. And we're kissing like it's breathing. My stomach flutters wildly. And somehow we end up horizontal, his hands curved up around my back.

"I like this," I say, and my voice comes out breathless. "We should do this. Every day."
"Okay."
"Let's never do anything else. No school. No meals. No homework."
"I was going to ask you to see a movie," he says, smiling. When he smiles, I smile.
"No movies. I hate movies."
"Oh, really?"
"Really, really. Why would I want to watch other people kissing," I say, "when I could be kissing you? — Becky Albertalli

He kissed the tip of my finger, and I smiled at this. I would not be able to heal him, but he would not hate me for failing. That would be enough for both of us. — Jason Heller

How shall I get through the months or years of my future life, in company with that man
my greatest enemy
for none could injure me as he has done? Oh! when I think how fondly, how foolishly I have loved him, how madly I have trusted him, how constantly I have laboured, and studied, and prayed, and struggled for his advantage, and how cruelly he has trampled on my love, betrayed my trust, scorned my prayers and tears, and efforts for his preservation
crushed my hopes, destroyed my youth's best feelings, and doomed me to a life of hopeless misery
as far as man can do it
it is not enough to say that I no longer love my husband
I HATE him! The word stares me in the face like a guilty confession, but it is true: I hate him
I hate him! — Anne Bronte

Dad, he's different. He's not going to take advantage of me."
"I hope not, 'cause I'd hate to go to prison for murder."
I laughed and went to hug him but he wasn't amused.
"Dad, I'll be ok. Caleb is a nice guy and very responsible. I promise you I won't do anything stupid and neither will he. I'm sure he wants to stay alive and keep his limbs intact. Ok?"
"Ok," he conceded with a sigh. — Shelly Crane

Gray stood up and came round the desk. "Think of the words on that memorial, Wraysford. Think of those stinking towns and foul bloody villages whose names will be turned into some bogus glory by fat-arsed historians who have sat in London. We were there. As our punishment for God knows what, we were there, and our men died in each of those disgusting places. I hate their names. I hate the sound of them and the thought of them, which is why I will not bring myself to remind you. But listen." He put his face close to Stephen's. "There are four words they will chisel beneath them at the bottom. Four words that people will look at one day. When they read the other words they will want to vomit. When they read these, they will bow their heads, just a little. 'Final advance and pursuit.' Don't tell me you don't want to put your name to those words. — Sebastian Faulks

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

There's nothing he can do here for me, but I hate that he left. — Ann Aguirre

I knew it! I knew you'd hate my body!" She slammed her hands on her hips, marched over to the bed, and glared down at him. "Well, for your information, mister, all those cute little sex kittens in your past might have had perfect bodies, but they don't know a lepton from a proton,and if you think that I'm going to stand here and let you judge me by the size of my hips and because my belly's not flat, then you're in for a rude awakening." She jabbed her finger at him. "This is the way a grown woman looks, buster! This body was designed by God to be functional, not to be stared at by some hormonally imbalanced jock who can only get aroused by women who still own Barbie dolls"
"Damn. Now I've got to gag you." With one swift motion, he pulled her down on the bed, rolled on top of her, and covered her lips with his own. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

He was having a bad day. He's worse than a girl, trust me. He doesn't hate you. We're twins. Even I want to kill him on days that end with a Y( ... ) — Jennifer L. Armentrout

A famous actor told me once - I don't want to name names, I hate that sort of thing - but I was at his house and he said, 'Are you on Twitter?' I said, 'Yes, I am.' And he said, 'There'll be one day when you'll have, like, five friends. And in the same day it'll go to five thousand.' — Sam Claflin

She set her hands neatly in her lap. "But you just said he liked you."
"No, I said he enjoys my company. That is, he enjoys hating me. Or pretending to hate me. I don't know which.
But I'm finding it difficult to completely dislike someone who gets pleasure from having me around ... "So he likes being mean to you," she said. "And you like that he likes being mean to you."
"And I like being mean to him, too, don't forget."
"Of course not. Pleasure from meanness. There's a name for it: sadomasochism. — Kristin Walker

One day when I was fourteen, I told Charlie that I hated Mother. "Don't hate her, Jo," he told me. "Feel sorry for her. She's not near as smart as you. She wasn't born with your compass, so she wanders around, bumping into all sorts of walls. That's sad." I understood what he meant, and it made me see Mother differently. But wasn't there some sort of rule that said parents had to be smarter than their kids? It didn't seem fair. — Ruta Sepetys

On the drive home, Adam glances at me several times, clearly wanting to talk about what's happened.
But I can barely look up from the door latch.
Exactly six pain-filled minutes later, he pulls over at the corner of my street and puts the car in park. "Do you hate me?" he asks.
"More like I hate myself."
"Yeah." He sighs. "Kissing me tends to have that effect on women."
"That's not what I meant."
"Don't worry about it," he says, still trying to make light of the situation. "It's my fault. It won't happen again."
"I let it happen."
"Yes, but only because you couldn't help yourself. I must admit, I'm far too irresistible for my own good."
"I wouldn't go that far." I can't help but smile. — Laurie Faria Stolarz

You are ours and he should have known not to touch you."
"I'm yours? I thought you hated me."
Kit stepped out of the bathroom. "We don't hate you. You're our pet."
"Kit!" Rusty shook her head. "Don't say that. You'll offend her."
Kit shrugged "She is. She's so little and cute. She yaps around trying to please like ... What are they called? A Yorkie?"
Rusty sighed. "We decided she's more similar to a cute little poodle with her long blonde hair." She flashed a smile at Ellie. "Don't take it offensively please. We enjoy having you around and you amuse us to no end. — Laurann Dohner

I turned away from his grip, ashamed that I couldn't tell him the truth. I was the one that wasn't good enough. I would be the one to ruin everything; to ruin him. He would hate me one day, and I couldn't see the look in his eye when he came to that conclusion. — Jamie McGuire

I hate you," I say, the sentiment muffled against his heart, hoping to make it true.
"And I love you," he answers without hesitation, voice resolved and raw as he holds me tighter so I can't break away and react. "A crossroads, my beautiful princess, that was unavoidable - given our situations. — A.G. Howard

I know I found his lips and let him caress me without realizing that I, too, was crying and didn't know why. That dawn, and all the ones that followed in the two weeks I spent with Julian, we made love to one another on the floor, never saying a word. Later, sitting in a cafe or strolling through the streets, I would look into his eyes and know, without any need to question him, that he still loved Penelope. I remember that during those days I learned to hate that seventeen-year-old girl (for Penelope was always seventeen to me) whom I had never met and who now haunted my dreams. I invented excuses for cabling Cabestany to prolong my stay. I no longer cared whether I lost my job or the grey existence I had left behind in Barcelona. I have often asked myself whether my life was so empty when I arrived in Paris that I fell into Julian's arms - like Irene Marceau's girls, who, despite themselves, craved for affection. — Carlos Ruiz Zafon

People mean well. That is what he believes. How then is he married to me? I hate often and easily. I hate, for example, people who sit with their legs splayed. People who claim to give 110 percent. People who call themselves "comfortable" when what they mean is decadently rich. You're so judgmental, my shrink tells me, and I cry all the way home, thinking of it. Later, — Jenny Offill

What, no panty ripping today?" I tease. "What is it with you and panties anyway? What's your beef with them?"
He lifts his head, grinning at me. "It's a love/hate relationship, baby. I love how they look on you. Hate that they're blocking my access."
I giggle. — Samantha Towle

Oh,' the priest said, 'that's another thing altogether - God is love. I don't say the heart doesn't feel a taste of it, but what a taste. The smallest glass of love mixed with a pint pot of ditch-water. We wouldn't recognize that love. It might even look like hate. It would be enough to scare us - God's love. It set fire to a bush in the desert, didn't it, and smashed open graves and set the dead walking in the dark. Oh, a man like me would run a mile to get away if he felt that love around. — Graham Greene

You hate the very source of your life, it's ultimate basis - for there's no denying it, 'sex is fundamental. And you hate it, hate it.' 'Me?' It was a novel accusation. Spandrell was accustomed to hearing himself blamed for his excessive love of women and the sensual pleasures. 'Not only you. All these people.' With a jerk of his head he indicated the other diners. 'And all the respectable ones too. Practically everyone. It's the disease of modern man. I call it Jesus's disease on the analogy of Bright's disease. Or rather Jesus's and Newton's disease; for the scientists are as much responsible as the Christians. So are the big business men, for that matter. It's Jesus's and Newton's and Henry Ford's disease. Between them, the three have pretty well killed us. Ripped the life out of our bodies and stuffed us with hatred.' Rampion — Aldous Huxley

He's comming to meet me on Sun. Cant wait!! ... Please God let him love me!! ... This could be it [followed by five happy faces] ... Hes going to publish my pictures Im so glad I didn't sleep with him either! ... I hate for men to want sex all the time. I hate sex anyway. (1992, diary entry as she prepares for a meeting with Paul Marciano, head of Guess.) — Anna Nicole Smith

Well,' he said, 'I don't know. What's the use of my generalizing? I only know my own case. I like women, but I don't desire them. I like talking to them; but talking to them, though it makes me intimate in one direction, sets me poles apart from them as far as kissing is concerned. So there you are! But don't take me as a general example, probably I'm just a special case: one of the men who like women, but don't love women, and even hate them if they force me into a pretence of love, or an entangled appearance. — D.H. Lawrence

All right, all right," he said, with that gesture I'd come to hate: two open palms facing me and patting the air, as if pushing me away, pushing me down, pushing any tears I might be preparing to cry back into their ducts. — Kathleen Rooney

I don't hate you, Jace."
"I don't hate you, either."
She looked up at him, relieved. "I'm glad to hear that - "
"I wish I could hate you," he said. His voice was light, his mouth curved in an unconcerned half smile, his eyes sick with misery. "I want to hate you. I try to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you. Sometimes I think I do hate you and then I see you and I - "
Her hands had grown numb with their grip on the blanket. "And you what?"
"What do you think?" Jace shook his head. "Why should I tell you everything
about how I feel when you never tell me anything? It's like banging my head on a
wall, except at least if I were banging my head on a wall, I'd be able to make myself stop."
Clary's lips were trembling so violently that she found it hard to speak. "Do you think it's easy for me?" she demanded. — Cassandra Clare

His fingers gouged into my leg harder. "My sister was in that cafeteria," he said. "She saw her friends die, thanks to you and that puke boyfriend of yours. She still has nightmares about it. He got what he deserved, but you got a free pass. That ain't right. You should've died that day, Sister Death. Everyone wishes you would have. Look around. Where is Jessica, if she wants you here so bad? Even the friends you came here with don't want to be with you."
"Let go of me," I said again, pulling on his fingers. But he only pinched tighter.
"Your boyfriend isn't the only one who can get his hands on a gun," he said. Slowly he eased himself up to standing again. He reached into the waistband of his jeans and pulled out something small and dark. He pointed it at me, and when the moonlight hit it, I gasped and pressed myself against the barn wall. — Jennifer Brown

I'm not a woman you bring home to Mother, pick out china patterns with, or Mary forefend, breed. I've seen a chunk of the universe, true, but there's still so much more to see. I doubt I'll ever cure this wanderlust, and I'm content with dedicating my life to failing to sate it ... He's never going to sit at my feet and write me poems, which is good because I hate poetry, except dirty ones that rhyme. — Ann Aguirre

He pulled her mirror out of his other pocket. "You left your mirror on my table." He extended it toward her.
"You can keep it," she said quietly. "We have lots of mirrors here."
"I'll keep it, then."
"Good. I'm glad."
He'd never rushed headlong into a battle, but he figured this time, it might be the best approach. "I spent a lot of time studying it. The back is real pretty with all the gold carving. Took me about an hour to gather up the courage to turn it over and look at the other side."
"And what did you see?"
" Aman who loves you more than life itself."
Closing her eyes, she dropped her chin to her chest.
"I wouldn't blame you if you hated me. I haven't held your feelings as precious as I should have."
"I don't hate you," she whispered hoarsely. "I tried to, but I can't."
-Houston and Amelia — Lorraine Heath

You should hate me," she said brokenly. "You should leave me - "
"Hush." His grip tightened, just short of bruising her. "Do you think so little of me? Damn you." He crushed his lips in her hair. "You don't understand anything about me. Did you think I wouldn't want to help you? That I would abandon you if I knew?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Damn you," he repeated, his voice choked with anger and love. He forced her face upward. The hopelessness in her eyes caused a cold pressure to squeeze around his heart. — Lisa Kleypas

He tested the knots, as though he gave a shit. "Is it too tight?" Ian asked, his voice quiet and serious. She stayed silent, not willing to give him anything. He'd taken her world away and then expected her to submit? "Charlie, baby, talk to me. I can't stand this. I hate that I shut you down. I don't want to. I want to be cold. I want to not care. I can't. I can't let you go." "You're taking away my options." "Because I gave them all to you last time and you fucking didn't choose me. You chose everyone but me. I'll fix this. I'll save you. Choose me, Charlie. Choose us. Trust me. Give me the option of being your hero. — Lexi Blake

Why do you hate yourself?"
And before I know it, Gat is lying on the bed next to me. His cold fingers wrap around my hot ones, and his face is close to mine. He kisses me. "Because I want things I can't have," he whispers. — E. Lockhart

You are out of control, Rand al'Thor,' she declared.
I do what must be done,' he said, speaking now from the shadows. He sounded exhausted ...
I hate what you just did, Rand,' Nynaeve snarled. 'No, "Hate" isn't strong enough. I loathe what you've done. What has happened to you?'
Test him!' Rand whispered, voice dangerous. 'Before condemning me, let us first determine if my sins have achieved anything beyond my own damnation. — Brandon Sanderson

I hate to say anything that may hurt UCLA, but I can't be quiet when I see what the NCAA is doing to Jerry Tarkanian only because he has a reputation for giving a second chance to many black athletes other coaches have branded as troublemakers. The NCAA is working night and day trying to get Jerry, but no one from the NCAA ever questioned me during my four years at UCLA! — Bill Walton

You can see right away,' the old man said, 'that he hates us but hides his hatred under a layer of sycophancy. They all hate us. How could they not? If I were them I'd hate us too. In fact, I'd hate us even without being them. Take it from me, Rachel, if you just look at us you can see that we deserve nothing but hatred and contempt. And maybe a bit of pity. But that pity cannot come from the Arabs. They themselves need all the pity in the world. — Amos Oz

Quote taken from Chapter 1:
That's the idea. Listen, Frank, this one is different. She's a keeper." He let that part gel in me. "Get your head screwed on straight and move to Richmond. You hate it living in Pelham. — Ed Lynskey

When I am dead
I say it that way because from the things I know, I do not expect to live long enough to read this book in its finished form
I want you to just watch and see if I'm not right in what I say: that the white man, in his press, is going to identify me with "hate". He will make use of me dead, as he has made use of me alive, as a convenient symbol, of "hatred"
and that will help him escape facing the truth that all I have been doing is holding up a mirror to reflect, to show, the history of unspeakable crimes that his race has committed against my race. — Malcolm X

Could you just ask? I know we used to hate each other but I've come to think I might like you quite a lot. Any chance you like me, at all? Gods, it sounded absurd. All her life she'd been pushing folk away, she had no idea where to start at pulling one in. What if he looked at her as if she was mad? The thought yawned like a pit at her feet. What do you mean, like? Like, like like? Should she just take hold of him and kiss him? She kept thinking about it. She hardly thought about anything else any more. — Joe Abercrombie

Jayden went for my fries, ignoring Anna's narrowed gaze. "Thanks, babe."
"You two know each other?" Jo gestured between Jayden and me with her fork.
Before I could nod, he dropped an arm over my shoulders. "She's my bae."
I grinned.
"Bae?" Keira sighed. "I hate that word. Do you know what it really means?"
"Poop," I answered without thinking. "In Danish."
My eyes widened. Holy crap. I'd spoken without hesitation at lunch! Holy crap! No one recognized my internal freak-out over it, but I couldn't believe it. I sat there and spoke with no problem.
I needed to give myself a cookie.
Anna giggled. "Oh, man. I know. I know. Still think it's a cute word."
Across from her, Keira rolled her eyes. "It literally means shit."
"Mallory is the shit, though. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I hate you."
"I know," he whispered.
"Kiss me."
He didn't hesitate. — Larissa Ione

I hate you," Haley mumbled, storming past him to grab a carriage.
"You love and adore me," Jason informed her as he deftly snagged her carriage away from her and headed towards the men's department. — R.L. Mathewson

Maybe it was clear that he cared about me, that he couldn't handle another risk, but in that moment the only thing that made sense was my anger. I might have even hated him for what he said about Grace, because hating him was so much easier than understanding him. He obviously felt the same way. — Lisa Roecker

It was hard to hate him then, to treat him cruelly.It would have been like kicking a puppy; it would have made me the troll he'd always led me to believe I was. — Sara Baume

I love Jere more than anybody. He's my brother, my family. I hate myself for doing this. But when I see you two together, I hate him too." His voice broke.
"Don't marry him. Don't be with him. Be with me. — Jenny Han

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

How you must hate Logres," she said in a dry mouth.
"Hate Logres?" He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "There is an anger that is deserved, Blanche. Tell me. Look me in the eye, if you can, and tell me - to my face - that Logres is without sin. — Suzannah Rowntree

Well, I've got an idea," said Rabbit, "and here it is. We take Tigger for a long explore, somewhere where he's never been, and we lose him there, and next morning we find him again, and
mark my words
he'll be a different Tigger altogether."
"Why?" said Pooh.
"Because he'll be a Humble Tigger. Because he'll be a Sad Tigger, a Melancholy Tigger, a Small and Sorry Tigger, an Oh-Rabbit-I-am-glad-to-see-you Tigger. That's why."
"Will he be glad to see me and Piglet, too?"
"Of course."
"That's good," said Pooh.
"I should hate him to go on being Sad," said Piglet doubtfully.
"Tiggers never go on being Sad," explained Rabbit. — A.A. Milne

Jesus Christ came for me, and he came for each person that is infected with HIV/AIDS. God loves that person. He doesn't hate them. They've made mistakes. We've all made mistakes. But God loves them, God cares for them, and Jesus Christ died for their sins. — Franklin Graham

There was a gay man who lived nearby when I was growing up,' Harry recounted.
'He must have been forty or so, lived alone, and everyone in the neighbourhood knew he was gay. In the winter we threw snowballs at him, shouted "buttfucker" then ran like mad, convinced he would give us one up the backside if he caught us. But he never came after us, just pulled his hat further down over his ears and walked home. One day, suddenly, he moved. He never did anything to me, and I've always wondered why I hated him so much.'
'People are afraid of what they don't understand. And hate what they're afraid of. — Jo Nesbo

This is supposed to be a surprise - a huge, life-changing surprise that could make or break our future. Or my kneecaps if George decides he really does hate me. — Tara Sivec

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

This topic brings me to that worst outcrop of the herd nature, the military system, which I abhor. That a man can take pleasure in marching in formation to the strains of a band is enough to make me despise him. He has only been given his big brain by mistake; a backbone was all he needed. This plague-spot of civilization ought to be abolished with all possible speed. Heroism by order, senseless violence, and all the pestilent nonsense that goes by the name of patriotism-how I hate them! — Albert Einstein

He murmured things that shocked her, expressing himself not in flowery phrases, but with the raw simplicity of a man whose lust for her knew no limits. I have no self-control where you're concerned. Every minute that I'm not with you, all I can think about is being inside you. I hate everything that keeps you separate from me. — Lisa Kleypas

I will kill anyone who harms you," Rhys snarled. "I will kill them, and take a damn long time doing it." He panted. "Go ahead. Hate me - despise me for it. — Sarah J. Maas

I really hate it when you're right," she said with a reluctant smile.
He touched the side of her face. "You were a match for me. I was always right about that. — Elizabeth Camden