I Still Don't Hate You Quotes & Sayings

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

This one guy, the worse guy in the music. The Yanni man. You know Yanni? First of all, anyone who looks like a magician and doesn't do magic, I don't like. I don't even like magic, I hate it. But I love the word, "Ta-da"! I love that word! I don't get to say it, right? I never do any magic. You just cant go around walking, "Ta-da!" "Ta-da!" "Ta-da!" The only time I can say it is when I do something really stupid or surprising. Like if I go out all night drinking and hitting strip clubs and I come home and I still got some money ... "Ta
da!" I thought I was broke. Why does my jaw hurt? — Dave Attell

Is there a problem, Ms. Parker? Something you want to say to me?" Reaching for his tie, he began to loosen it, unraveling it with his fingers, angry eyes still locked on mine.
"I'm not sure I like being your pet. Or science project, I don't know which."
"You have a smart mouth."
"You make smart observances."
"You're going to make this invitation difficult, aren't you?"
"If you're dishonest with me, yes."
"You'll regret it if you don't accept."
"Is that a threat?"
"That's a promise. — Rachael Wade

I dont care if you have the smallest part to do with my life or the largest, I love everyone I've ever met, and if you don't like me i still respect you as a person rather than hate you for what you believe in. — Shane Phillips

I don't want to want you, and this doesn't change anything. I still hate your guts."
"Liar. — Avery Flynn

So Dad was cured?" I don't know why I feel so disappointed. I didn't even remember him; he died of cancer when I was one.
"He was." A muscle twitches in my mom's jaw. "But there were times I felt ... There were times it seemed as though he could still feel it, just for a second. Maybe I only imagined it. It doesn't matter. I loved him anyway. He was very good to me."
reminds me that she is not just my mother, but a woman who has fought her whole life for something she has never truly experienced.
My dad was cured. And you can't love, not fully, unless you are loved in return.
It makes me ache for her, a feeling I hate and am somehow ashamed of. — Lauren Oliver

If you think acting like you don't exist isn't the hardest thing I've ever done, you're wrong. I hate not talking to you, I hate not bickering like we're an old married couple, and I hate not spending every day right next to you. But this is how it has to be. Brandon hates me, and, Princess, trust me when I say he has every reason to. So if after everything I've done to you, you'll still even consider being my friend, then it has to be Sundays only. — Molly McAdams

Don't mess this up. "So, uh, I would hate if you reached into my pocket." There was a suspended beat of silence. Then a dry, "I don't think so." "I don't have a present for you." Interest lit her dark eyes, but she remained still. Even suspicious. "The present wouldn't happen to be a hard cock, would it? Because if it is, I would have to return it. Minus a few inches." His — Gena Showalter

Maybe I'll get you a painting for Christmas," I said.
"We don't buy Christmas presents for each other," Edward said.
We were both staring at the fireplace as if visualizing that make-believe fire. "Maybe I'll start. One of those big-eyed children or a clown on velvet."
"I won't hang it if I don't like it."
I glanced at him. "Unless it's from Donna."
He was very still suddenly. "Yes."
"Maybe I'll tell her how much you love those pictures of dogs playing poker and she can buy you some prints."
"She wouldn't believe it," he said.
"No, but I bet I could come up with something that she would believe that you'd hate just as much."
He stared at me. "You wouldn't."
"I might."
"This sounds like the opening to blackmail. What do you want? — Laurell K. Hamilton

I still get blokes who say, 'Oh you hate men, don't you?' And I say, 'No, I just hate you.' I really love doing that, just to see the look on their faces. — Jo Brand

So what are you studying at school?" I asked, watching the TV and not Cooper as he still played gently with a lock of my damp hair.
"Pre-law."
Glancing at him, I frowned then forced myself to stop. "You want to be a lawyer?"
"Nope. Hate lawyers. Hate laws. Hate it all, but I'm the only one of my siblings with an IQ over shitfaced so the burden is on me to be the lawyer."
"I don't get it. Tell your giant brain to dumb it down a little. — Bijou Hunter

Wit was insulting each person as they stepped onto the island. "Brightness Marakal! What a
disaster that hairstyle is; how brave of you to show it to the world. Brightlord Marakal, I wish you'd
warned us you were going to attend; I'd have forgone supper. I do so hate being sick after a full meal.
Brightlord Cadilar! How good it is to see you. Your face reminds me of someone dear to me."
"Really?" wizened Cadilar said, hesitating.
"Yes," Wit said, waving him on, "my horse. Ah, Brightlord Neteb, you smell unique today - did you
attack a wet whitespine, or did one just sneeze on you? Lady Alami! No, please, don't speak - it's much
easier to maintain my illusions regarding your intelligence that way. And Brightlord Dalinar." Wit nodded
to Dalinar as he passed. "Ah, my dear Brightlord Taselin. Still engaged in your experiment to prove a
maximum threshold of human idiocy? Good for you! Very empirical of you. — Brandon Sanderson

Honor thy Father and thy Mother was once said, but then someone said: What if I don't know your Father? A still voice said: Does that makes him the devil? He is still someone's Father, his name has been changed, but his story is the same. Why hate when we should Celebrate. In this world of two's, you got the Mourning Son, and the Daughter of the Night. They both equal light once you make it through the night. Now, wake the funk up! — Bootsy Collins

The truth about most people: they will never accept you as you are. You'll need to change. And I'm begging you, change. But only for yourself, and even if that means by yourself. Never bend for them. Don't calm your heart, don't scale back these dreams. Stay strange, lost your mind, finger fuck the rules, burn bridges if you must, and follow your insanity. Feel everything, it's telling you something. People will love you in bits and pieces, and hate you just the same. You'll always be too much for some, and not enough for others. They will never believe in you, as much as you do. And understand that you will never be a success in the eyes of a failure. There's a magic in you that most others can't believe in, simply because they haven't made sense of themselves. But you're magic, still. You've been that way all along. And even if the world changed everything in you, that much would always be true. — J. Raymond

The raft finally got here," he said.
Calypso snorted. Her eyes might have been red, but it was hard to tell in the moonlight. "You just noticed?"
"But if it only shows up for guys you like-"
"Don't push your luck, Leo Valdez," she said. "I still hate you."
"Okay."
"And you are not coming back here," she insisted. "So don't give me any empty promises."
"How about a full promise?" he said. "Because I'm definitely-"
She grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, which effectively shut him up.
For all his joking and flirting, Leo had never kissed a girl before. Well, sisterly pecks on the cheeck from Piper, but that didn't count. This was a real, full-contact kiss. If Leo had had gears and wires in his brain, they would've short-circuited.
Calypso pushed him away. "That didn't happen."
"Okay." His voice sounded an octave higher than usual. — Rick Riordan

I've been ripped off, conned, lied to and cheated... but I'm still here. Cheaters never prosper. If stealing from you is the only way for them to get ahead - they're never going to get very far. Because thats all they are - just a thief. When they lose it, they can't rebuild because they don't know how. They never did the ground work in the first place. All they know is how to steal! — Lisa Newton

Every engineer, doctor, and farmer on this ship has relatives on the waiting list, too, and those relatives won't be drug addicts.
Mom's right: no one would pick her from a waiting list.
No one would've picked me, either.
Usefulness or death can't be her only options. If being picked from the waiting list isn't feasible, then the one choice left is to smuggle her in. The back of my mind keeps whispering about the risk, about She'd only be a drain, but I shut it up. There's a difference between leaving Mom and leaving Mom to die.
"I'm glad you agree," Iris says. "I know it's not easy."
That's what I hate. She's right. It's not. I still don't want to break the rules, even if it's to help Mom. But people on TV never abandon their family; they risk their own lives. That's what you're supposed to do.
On TV, people just never feel this twisted about it.
"Four this afternoon," I say. "Let's talk. — Corinne Duyvis

I hate to lose, and if anybody gets used to losing they are going to be a loser. I'd like to tell you losing is part of the game, and it is, but I hated it. I still hate to lose. And that will never change. By the way, just because I turned the page and poured all my energies into business does not mean that I don't miss organized sports. I do. — Donald Trump

Oh, God in heaven, kill me now ... " Rachel groaned. "I hate going to see Mrak. I always feel awkward going back to Velik Tor. After being a Scorpion for so long, after everything Oron's told us about Mrak's past ... " she shook her head darkly. "I don't know if I'll be able to resist the temptation to perforate his bowels."
Notak looked back down at the letter. "Post script," he read aloud. "Rachel, please leave Mrak alive and unharmed. We still need him, unfortunately, no matter how tempting it is to perforate his bowels."
"You made that up, he did not say that!"
Notak handed her the letter, pointing. "Right there at the bottom."
Rachel squinted at the writing. "Faul. — S.G. Night

You like me," he finally said. "You like me, like me." He was trying not to smile.
"No. I hate you," I said, hoping that saying it would make it so.
"And yet, you draw me." Noah was still smug, completely undeterred by my declaration.
This was torture; worse somehow than what just happened, even though it was only the two of us. Or because it was only the two of us.
"Why?" he asked.
"Why what?" What could I say? Noah, despite you being an asshole, or maybe because of it, I'd like to rip off your clothes and have your babies. Don't tell. — Michelle Hodkin

Please understand. Please forgive me.
I prayed every day for you to be alive, until hope became painful.
Don't hate me.
I still love you. — Lauren Oliver

I felt as though the skin had been peeled away from half of my body. Half my face had been peeled away, and everybody would stare in horror for the rest of my life. Or they would stare at the other half, at the half still intact; I could see them smiling, pretending that the flayed half wasn't there, and talking to the half that was. And I could hear my self screaming at them, I could see myself thrusting my hideous side right up into their unmarred faces to make them properly horrified. 'I was pretty! I was whole! I was sunny, lively little girl! Look, look at what they did to me!' But whatever side they looked at, I would always be screaming, 'Look at the other! Why don't you look at the other!' That's what I thought about in the hospital at night. However they look at me, however they talk to me, however they try to comfort me, I will always be this half-flayed thing. I will never be young, I will never be kind or at peace or in love, and I will hate them all my life. — Philip Roth

I also hate those holidays that fall on a Monday where you don't get mail, those fake holidays like Columbus Day. What did Christopher Columbus do, discover America? If he hadn't, somebody else would have and we'd still be here. Big deal. — John Waters

Where you really have your eggs in one basket and that breach happens and you know you should go but you're still in love and you just don't know what to do. It hits you because it's not like
you're a cheater, and a liar, and I hate you, and you're no good, and I'm leaving. It's not that. It's like, I'm tormented. Even though you've done this and I know it, I still don't know what to do. I know I should go, but I don't want to. And that's why it's such a f***ed-up thing. — Jennifer Lopez

The thing is, don't get me wrong, I still love scoring and I hate to lose but now I see myself more as making players play better. Sometime you do what you have to do and you have to perform, that is still there, but in my mind I am thinking about making the guys around me play better and that is never an easy thing to do. — Thierry Henry

I still don't like you right now, but I'll probably not hate you tomorrow." "I can live with that. — Donna Augustine

Another voice rages.
I hate that boy! I hate me! I am so incredibly stupid!
A sunflower leans over the fence, smiling
How dare you!
I rip off its head and throw it in the gutter.
The smart thing to do is to keep going on. Walk away quickly and no one will know what I've done. But I can't move because my eyes are locked on the slowly opening front door - locked on Mrs Muir.
'I'm sorry.' My tiny voice sounds so pathetically lame, but I've still got more lameness for her. 'I never do this sort of thing. I like sunflowers. I was just angry about something - nothing to do with you or the flower. I'm really, really sorry.'
'Oh, you are upset! Well, never mind'. Mrs Muir comes closer to me. 'Goodness, we all get cross. The main thing is: did it make you feel any better?'
'No. Yes. Maybe. A little bit.'
'Would you like to do another one? There's more out the back, too. You go for your life dear. I don't mind at all - they need a good pruning. — Bill Condon

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

You know those FBI shows on TV? Where they do the profiling?"
"Yeah."
"Cops hate that stuff. While it's all well and good to sit behind a desk and have assigned characteristics and fancy medical names for criminals," Jerry said in a prissy voice, "at the end of the day, you just don't know what anybody's gonna do. You gotta prepare for everything. Human beings are unpredictable. After three decades with PD, I still get surprised. — Jennifer Hillier

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

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

And you thought you'd honk Shay off real good by asking the man at the top of her Most Hated list." "She doesn't hate you." "Could've fooled me." "Well, you haven't fooled anybody, least of all me." Miss Lucy's eyes, magnified by the bottle glasses, narrowed knowingly. Travis looked toward the darkening sky and clamped his jaw. "Don't know what you're talking about." "Don't be contrary with me, Travis McCoy. I've known you since you were running around this place in nothing but a diaper. You're still in love with Shay. — Denise Hunter

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

I hate that I've become one of those old men who visits a cemetery to be with his dead wife. When I was (much) younger I used to ask Kathy what the point would be. A pile of rotting meat and bones that used to be a person isn't a person anymore; it's just a pile of rotting meat and bones. The person is gone - off to heaven or hell or wherever or nowhere. You might as well visit a side of beef. When you get older you realize this is still the case. You just don't care. It's what you have. — John Scalzi

You realize we can't go back to Sheridan."

"I know."

"Have to keep heading southwest now, and I don't know anything about the area. We'll probably get lost or walk into a road and a patrol."

"Well"-Hadrian looked down at Royce's side-"you're bleeding again, and I think I am, too, so the good news is we'll likely die before morning. Still, I suppose it could be worse."

"How?"

"They could have caught us at the tavern, or we could have drowned in that river."

"Either way we'd be dead. At this point I'm inclined to see that as better off."

"Anything can always be worse," Hadrian assured him.

They lay staring up at the sky and watching clouds blot out the stars. Royce heard it before he felt it. A distant patter on the blades of grass along the hillside. He turned once more to Hadrian. "I'm really starting to hate you. — Michael J. Sullivan

Colin,
I hate to fulfill the Theorem, but I don't think we should be involved romantically.
The problem is that I secretly in love with Hassan.
I can't help myself. I hold your bony shoulder blades in my hands and think of his fleshy back.
I kiss your stomach and I think of his awe-inspiring gut. I like you,
Colin, I really do. But-I'm sorry. It's just not going to work.
I hope we can still be friends.
Sincerely,
Lindsey Lee Wells
P.S. Just kidding. — John Green

My sister compares her body to a junkyard and I find bits of scrap metal beneath her bed from boys who bury promises in her belly. Maybe love ruins you a little bit. Maybe we don't care. We are so young to hate everything so much. Can recite the periodic table from memory but still can't quite believe it when they say that they love us, too. — Kristina Haynes

When you hate someone so much, a part of you wants desperately to forgive them. But you can't decide if it's because you really want, or if you just want to stop hating. I still don't know if forgiveness is generous or selfish. Maybe both. — Miguel Syjuco

What's got you smilin' like a bitch who just had good cock?" I was interrupted by a sexy drawl.
I looked up to see Nash leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of him, sexy smirk plastered on his face. He was tall, all muscle and ink; he exuded a couldn't-give-a-fuck attitude. Nash was one of the cockiest men I had ever met and the women flocked to him.
I rolled my eyes. "Can a woman not smile unless she's had cock?" I asked.
He uncrossed his arms and pushed away from the door frame; coming towards me, "No, sweet thing, it all comes down to cock."
"Well, I hate to tell you, Nash, but this woman hasn't had any today, and yet I am still smiling. I think your theory is a little off." I loved bantering back and forth with him.
He raised his eyebrows. "J's fallin' down on the job there sweetheart. You sure you don't want to jump ships? I've got all you'll ever need," he grinned at me, opening his arms wide in an inviting gesture. — Nina Levine

I had more to say," Sin said, still looking frustrated. "But it doesn't come out right when I try. I always say the wrong things."
Boyd nodded but he was so caught by their proximity, by the green of Sin's eyes, that at first he struggled with his own words.
"It's alright," he said at last. "As long you don't hate me, it's enough."
"That is not enough," Sin growled. "Not by a goddamn long shot. You just have no idea, Boyd. No fucking clue."
"About what?"
"Everything. Why I acted the way I did ... Why I was so pissed off. It will never make any sense to you because I don't know how to explain."
"So try," Boyd pressed. "Please."
"I don't know how. — Ais

This in no way means I don't still hate you, he muttered as he nuzzled his nose and mouth against Zane's temple and closed his eyes. — Madeleine Urban

Dear Mommy
I'm doing really good,
I get all A's in school
And I don't cry at bedtime anymore,
Though my new mom said I could.
I remember how much you hate tears,
You slapped them out of me
To make me strong,
I think it worked.
I learned to use a microscope
And my hair grew two inches.
It's pretty, just like yours.
I'm not allowed to clean the house,
Only my own room,
Isn't that a funny rule?
You say kids are so much trouble
Getting born, they better pay it back.
I'm not supposed to take care
Of the other kids, only me, I sort of like it.
I still get the hole in my stomach
When I do something wrong,
I have a saying on my mirror
"Kids make mistakes, It's OK,"
I read it every day,
Sometimes I even believe it.
I wonder if you ever think of me
Or if you're glad the troublemaker's gone,
I never want to see you again.
I love you, Mommy. — Karyl McBride

Science taps the power of human understanding to look at the world and figure out how it works. It can't fail without humanity itself failing. Your magic could turn off, and you would hate that, but you would still be you. You would still be alive to regret it. But because science rests upon my human intelligence, it is the power that cannot be removed from me without removing me. Even if the laws of the universe change on me, so that all my knowledge is void, I'll just figure out the new laws, as has been done before. It's not a Muggle thing, it's a human thing, it just refines and trains the power you use every time you look at something you don't understand and ask 'Why? — Eliezer Yudkowsky

I don't blame you if you hate me. I wish you would. As long as I can still dream, I'll dream of you. -City of Lost Souls — Cassandra Clare