I Hate Myself Because Of You Quotes & Sayings

Hell is a library," she said, tightening her fresh knot.

"That really doesn't sound bad, Julia."

"That's because I'm not finished. Hell is a library of books containing every word you've ever said, and videotapes of everything you've ever done."

"So what. Do you have to watch them?"

"No, you don't have to. But would you be able to help yourself? It would be unbearable. I couldn't resist, but I would hate myself after." She gave the noose two good, hard tugs. "Plus, even if you could resist the temptation, you'd eventually get so bored that you'd do anything. And the only thing to read is stuff that you've said and the only thing to do is watch yourself. — Ainslie Hogarth

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

All I can see when I look at him is a belt swinging toward Tobias, and the butt of a gun slamming into Caleb's jaw. I don't care that he hurt Caleb
I would have done it, too
but that he is simultaneously a man who knows how to hurt people and a man who parades around as the self-effacing leader of Abnegation, suddenly makes me so angry I can't see straight.
Especially because I chose him. I chose him over Tobias.
"Your brother is a traitor," says Marcus as we turn a corner. "He deserved worse. There's no need to look at me that way."
"Shut up!" I shout, shoving him hard into the wall. He is too surprised to push back. "I hate you, you know that! I hate you for what you did to him, and I am not talking about Caleb." I lean close to his face and whisper, "And while I may not shoot you myself, I will definitely not help you if someone tries to kill you, so you'd better hope to God we don't get into that situation. — Veronica Roth

What I couldn't bring myself to hate was the energy. I reveled in the way it ebbed and flowed as people connected over something and the way the multiplication of people intensified it around us. Energy made me both love and hate being in large crowds because there was too much chaos to the peace and too much peace to the chaos. — J.D. Brewer

I do like to hit people-I like the explosion of power and energy, and the feeling that I am untouchable because I can hurt people. But I hate that part of myself, because it is the part of me that is the most broken — Veronica Roth

Please don't hate you??!! I hate that I love you. Loving you made me waste a year of my life. Loving
you made me be passionate about nothing but you. Loving you made me take risks I never would have
otherwise. Loving you made me give it up to you. Loving you made me neglect my parents and Amy.
Loving you made me not care that my grandma just died. Loving you made me turn out bitter and
hopeless like her. Loving you made me hate myself for being dumped by you. Loving you made me
deluded, irrational, inconsiderate, and a liar. And because I love you, you're always going to haunt me. — Daria Snadowsky

I really am sorry, Micky, for what it's worth. You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me. You were my life. I mean, I know I didn't show that to you, and I'll forever hate myself for that. But you need to know, I loved you so fucking much. I still love you. Whenever I look at my future, it was always you... When I thought about my life... You were the one walking down the aisle towards me, raising our kids. I always smiled to myself when I thought about it, that it was you that was going to be there for me every night, when I got home from work, you in your study, writing your books. A few kids, a decent house. It was perfect in my mind. You were perfect. You are perfect and I threw it all away, because I'm such a fucking asshole, and I can't take it back. I can't fucking take it back, and I can't have you back, and all of this... this life I have, none of this shit is worth it, not without you. — Jay McLean

So I'm telling you, Kami, I won't miss you anymore. I won't hurt for you. I won't need you like I do. And I won't love you. Loving you is what caused all this. It's what ruined us. And I am so sorry for that. I hate myself for failing you. For not being enough to save you. But I won't fail you again. If this is what you need - for me to never think of you again - then that is what I am going to do. I'll forget you. I'll stop loving you like I do. Because, dammit, I do. So much it fucking tears me apart.I hope this is what you want. I know I didn't get it right the first time, but I promise to try like hell to make it better.Always (Never) — S.L. Jennings

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

I tried to convince myself, too, but I was a much tougher sell because I knew the truth. I was so very not okay. I realized that I was going to feel shitty either way. I was probably going to feel shitty for the rest of my life, a life I should not even still be living. A life that should have let me go. So I got angry. Then I got very angry. Then I got angrier still. But you can only go so long being angry before you learn to hate. I stopped feeling so sorry for myself and started hating instead. Whining was pathetic, but hate got things done. Hate strengthened my body and shaped my resolve and what I resolved to do was to get revenge. Hate seemed pretty damn healthy to me. - Nastya Kashnikov — Katja Millay

I'm near tears at this moment. But I also get an unexpected burst of courage, and here's what it feels like:
I don't care anymore if this guy hates me or badmouths me to other club owners. Because now - and I've never felt this before - I actively want him to hate me. It becomes imperative, for my self-worth, that and asshole like Reed actively loathe me. If someone like this were to like me, to like my comedy, and to like the way I conduct myself professionally, it would mean I suck as a person.
I've encountered this a few times since then. Not very often. But there are those rare occasions - and they're bracing, freeing sensations when they occur - when you absolutely crave someone's disapproval and disgust. You can see it actually helping your career, your social relations, and your life if it becomes known that this person thinks you're shit. — Patton Oswalt

There must be evidence somewhere, you know. I know you've all worked like beavers, but I'm going to work like a king beaver. and I've got one big advantage over the rest of you."
"More brains?" suggested Sir Impey, grinning.
"No - I should hate to suggest that, Biggy. But I do believe in Miss Vane's innocence."
"Damn it, Wimsey, didn't my eloquent speeches convince you that I was a whole-hearted believer?"
"Of course they did. I nearly shed tears. Here's old Biggy, I said to myself, going to retire from the Bar and cut his throat if this verdict goes against him, because he won't believe in British justice anymore. — Dorothy L. Sayers

Months after my wrists ripping, a talk therapist referred to the act as self-hatred. Until then nobody had said this to me. Did everyone presume that I already knew so? People say it all the time. It's safer to draw this conclusion. Throw in cowardice and you have an insulated public. I was not enraged at all. I was panic stricken. How could I hate myself for wanting to stop such physical sickness and terror? Mine was an act of caretaking, compassion, love. You cannot share this insight with therapists because they think such encourages recurrence. Have you ever stopped diarrhea with a prayer? If you have to go, you go. If you have to die, you die. — Brian Spellman

I ... There was a time when I stopped talking. Just like you. My reasons were a little bit different, but I think the feelings of being ashamed of myself and hating myself are the same. Here, it says to "like yourself." What does that mean? Good things- how are you supposed to find them? I only know things that I hate about myself. Because that's all I know, I hate myself. But even if you force yourself to find good things, it feels so empty. It doesn't work that way. People like your teacher just don't get it. I think when you hear someone say they like you, for the first time, then you can begin to like yourself. I think when someone accepts you, for the first time, you feel like you can forgive yourself a little. You can begin to face your fears with courage. — Natsuki Takaya

In any case, though, I believe that I have no been fair to you and that, as a result, I must have led you around in circles and hurt you deeply. In doing so, however, I have led myself around in circles and hurt myself just as deeply. I say this not as an excuse or means of self-justification but because it's true. If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound, but mine as well. So please try not to hate me. I am a flawed human being - a far more flawed human being than you realize. Which is precisely why I do not want you to hate me. Because if you were to do that I would really go to pieces. I can't do what you can do: I can't slip inside my shell and wait for things to pass. I don't know for a fact that you are really like that, but sometimes you give me that impression. I often envy that in you, which may be why I led you around in circles so much. — Haruki Murakami

Why would I hate you?"
"Because I was being, as Oscar made a point of telling me later, the most unlikable version of myself — Meg Leder

I remember Christian teachers telling me long ago that I must hate a bad man's actions but not hate the bad man: or, as they would say, hate the sin but not the sinner ... I used to think this a silly, straw-splitting distinction: how could you hate what a man did and not hate the man? But years later it occurred to me that there was one man to whom I had been doing this all my life
namely myself. However much I might dislike my own cowardice or conceit or greed, I went on loving myself. There had never been the slightest difficulty about it. In fact the very reason why I hated the things was that I loved the man. Just because I loved myself, I was sorry to find that I was the sort of man who did those things. — C.S. Lewis

The ugly parts of love can't lift you up.
They bring you
D
O
W
N.
They hold you under.
Drown you.
You look up and think, I wish I was up there.
But you're not.
Ugly love becomes you.
Consumes you.
Makes you hate it all.
Makes you realize that all the beautiful parts aren't even worth it. Without the beautiful, you'll never risk feeling this.
You'll never risk feeling the ugly.
So you give it up. You give it all up. You never want love again, no matter what kind it is, because no type of love will ever be worth living through the ugly love again.
I'll never let myself love anyone again, Rachel.
Ever. — Colleen Hoover

Q: When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?
A: I hate this question, because the answer makes me look like a jerk. The answer exposes me as a jerk. But here it is: the first time I read Twilight, I thought to myself, "If this chick can write a book, then you can!"
One day, Stephanie Meyer is going to give me a bloody nose. I accept that like I accept that I will one day get wrinkles.
To Stephanie Meyer: Could you come at me from the right side?
That side of my face could use adjusting ... — Anna Banks

The moment I start to feel that sinking feeling of dissatisfaction welling up in me, I know I need to message a friend, give her a call, or post a note telling her what I love about what she's doing. I need to deliberately write down how all the ways she's running confidently in her lane inspire me. Because the more I focus on how her work blesses, the less I'm able to want it for myself. It's hard to hate something that inspires you. — Lisa-Jo Baker

I tried to love Dad and not hate him for his fake cheer and the way he gets dressed. I tried to imagine what Mom saw in him back when she was an architect. I tried to put myself in the shoes of someone who finds every little thing he does a total delight. It was sad, though, because the thought of him and all his accessories always made me sick. I wished I'd never made the connection about Dad being a gigantic girl, because once you realize something like that, it's hard to go back. — Maria Semple

I want to be with you," he says. "But I can't if you won't let me."
"Why?" I drop my bag in the driveway. "Why do you want to be with this?" I wave my arm up and down the length of my body. Immediately, I hate myself for this. The only person making this about my body is me.
"Because I like you. I think I might feel a lot more than that for you, Willowdean. How is that so hard to believe? — Julie Murphy

...I think a lot of my misery was me hating me, and hating me made me hate everyone else. I felt like such a punk, I felt so weak. I really was a coward. I never stood up for myself. I mean, I stood up for myself as we associate standing up for yourself -- fighting and violence. But that's not standing up for yourself. I mean standing up for myself like thinking for myself. Now, I feel more ok with myself. I'm feeling stronger in my abilities every day, and the world just opens up. You really can do anything, you can shape your life any way you want it to be. Because prison isn't the great prison. Prison is being entrapped by those self-destructive ways of thinking. — Laura Bates

The truth that people are missing about certain things, you know when they get fearful and they get hateful, and they repress other peoples, is the greatest truth of all, you know, the truth of love and understanding and clarity about all those issues. And it's like, one day, one day, everybody's gonna know, myself included, over certain things. But, so it's like, it's alright, you know, you hate me now, but that's cool, because I see a better day and I know that there's a higher truth, and you're wrong about hating me because I'm gay. — Emily Saliers

Although it is very easy to marry a wife, it is very difficult to support her along with the children and the household. Accordingly, no one notices this faith of Jacob. Indeed, many hate fertility in a wife for the sole reason that the offspring must be supported and brought up. For this is what they commonly say: 'Why should I marry a wife when I am a pauper and a beggar? I would rather bear the burden of poverty alone and not load myself with misery and want.' But this blame is unjustly fastened on marriage and fruitfulness. Indeed, you are indicting your unbelief by distrusting God's goodness, and you are bringing greater misery upon yourself by disparaging God's blessing. For if you had trust in God's grace and promises, you would undoubtedly be supported. But because you do not hope in the Lord, you will never prosper. — Martin Luther

There was a time I stopped talking, just like you. My reasons were a little bit different, but... I think the feelings of being ashamed of myself and hating myself... are the same. Here it says "to like yourself." What does that mean? Good things---how are you supposed to find them? I only know things that I hate about myself. Because that's all I know: I hate myself. Even if your force yourself to find good things... it feels so empty. It doesn't work that way. People like your teacher just don't get it.
I think... when you hear someone say they like you for the first time... then you can begin to like yourself. I think when someone accepts you for the first time... you feel like you can forgive yourself a little. You can begin to face your fears.

~Yuki — Natsuki Takaya

Feyre," he said
softly enough that I faced him again. "Why?" He tilted his head to the side. "You dislike our kind on a good day. And after Andras ... " Even in the darkened hallway, his usual bright eyes were shadowed. "So why?"
I took a step closer to him, my blood-covered feet sticking to the rug. I glanced down the stairs to where I could still see the prone form of the faerie and the stumps of his wings.
"Because I wouldn't want to die alone," I said, and my voice wobbled as I looked at Tamlin again, forcing myself to meet his stare. "Because I'd want someone to hold my hand until the end, and awhile after that. That's something everyone deserves, human or faerie." I swallowed hard, my throat painfully tight. "I regret what I did to Andras," I said, the words so strangled they were no more than a whisper. "I regret that there was ... such hate in my heart. I wish I could undo it
and ... I'm sorry. So very sorry. — Sarah J. Maas

It's like a cat bell, so pretty yet alarming, because i know I'm letting myself fall when maybe I should fly away. But the loneliness inside, it's so fucking painful. It's that longing feeling that scratches to escape and makes you want to blurt out all kinds of gushy crap just to get the girl to look at you ... I hate it. Love its melty-ness and hate its leash around my neck. — Lisa McMann

When I lie by myself and remember I begin to have pains everywhere and I think of things that make me begin to scream because I hate them so. If there was a doctor anywhere who could make you forget you were ill instead of remembering it I would have him brought here. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

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