If You Really Hate Me Quotes & Sayings

L.A. is definitely a Marmite sort of place for me. I used to hate it, but now I love it. I think it really helps if you know the places and the restaurants and the nice bars to go to and if you have friends there. I've got some friends over there now, and they're not all actors, which is quite refreshing, and now I have a great time there. — Tamsin Egerton

I like being the odd one out in L.A. Because if you conform, you become something you hate. I love being the odd one out. It's not about 'Look at me! Look at me!' It's about really becoming someone else. — Tracey Ullman

I was self-conscious of being so lanky, of being me. I'd keep my head down, make excuses not to go out. I'd look in the mirror and hate myself. I thought I was disgusting. I cried constantly from 11 to 16. If I could tell my younger self anything, it would be to learn to love your flaws. It's OK to look in the mirror and feel really confident about yourself. — Jourdan Dunn

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 hate performing on live television. It's so scary, because, if you screw up, you don't really get any retakes. So when I do television shows now, having been on 'Idol' really helps me mentally to just kind of take it all in. So I learned a lot from it. — Phillip Phillips

Then she said she wondered if she really loved me or not. I, of course, couldn't enlighten her as to that. And, after another silence, she murmured something about my being "a queer fellow." "And I daresay that's why I love you," she added. "But maybe that's why one day I'll come to hate you. — Albert Camus

His lips parted. "Couldn't fool you for that long, I guess."
I squeezed my eyes shut, but a tear wiggled its way free, gliding down my cheek.
"Don't cry." He caught the tear with his finger as he pressed his forehead against mine. "Please. I hate when you cry because of me."
"I'm sorry. I don't want to be all weepy." I wiped at my cheeks, feeling foolish. "It's just that ... I never did know."
Aiden clasped the sides of my face, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I wanted a piece of you with me always. No matter what."
I shuddered. "But I don't ... I don't have anything of you."
"Yes, you do." Aiden brushed his lips over my damp cheek. A soft smile filled his voice. "You'll have a piece of my heart - all of it, really. Forever. Even if your heart belongs to someone else. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

You really do hate me, don't you? I mean, destroying someone's ice-cream cone? That's vicious."
Her cheeks reddened. "I didn't see you there. Honestly." She wiped at his shirt more frantically, as if she could prevent it from staining if she rubbed hard enough.
"Oh, now I see your plan, and it's far more devious than I thought." Daniel smirked. "You were looking for an excuse to grope me. — Amanda Hocking

Pride is really very simple. It is the attitude of the spoiled brat: "I want what I want when I want it, and if you say No to me, I hate you." "Thy will be done" is the essential prayer of the saint; "my will be done" is the essential demand of the sinner. — Peter Kreeft

I walked towards her. Jean-Claude grabbed my arm. "Do not harm her, Anita. She is under our protection."
"I swear to you that I will not lay a finger on her tonight. I just want to tell her something."
He released my arm, slowly, like he wasn't sure it was a good idea. I stepped next to Monica, until our bodies almost touched. I whispered into her face, "If anything happens to Catherine, I will see you dead."
She smirked at me, confident in her protectors. "They will bring me back as one of them."
I felt my head shake, a little to the right, a little to the left, a slow precise movement. "I will cut out your heart." I was still smiling, I couldn'tseem to stop. "Then I will burn it and scatter the ashes in the river. Do you understand me?"
She swallowed audibly. Her health-club tan looked a little green. She nodded, staring at me like I was the bogey man.
I think she believed I'd do it. Peachy keen. I hate to waste a really good threat — Laurell K. Hamilton

My whole thing is, haters are gonna hate, but haters are also going to click on your YouTube video just to watch it, so I don't really care. You helped me break the record. Even if you were watching just to hate on me, and now I hold the record, so I win. — Miley Cyrus

I think the therapists around this place think that if you know yourself, then somehow you'll be better and healthier and you'll be able to leave this place and live out your days as a happy and loving human being. Happy. Loving. I hate those words. I'm supposed to like them. I'm supposed to want them. I don't. Don't like them, don't want them. This is the way I see it: if you get to know yourself really well, you might discover that deep down inside you're just a dirty, disgusting, and selfish piece of shit. What if my heart is all rotted out and corrupted? What about that? What am I supposed to do with that information? Just tell me that. Most of the time I get the feeling that I'm just an animal disguised as an eighteen-year-old guy. At least I'm hoping that maybe deep down inside I'm a coyote. — Benjamin Alire Saenz

I was about to order Chinese when I looked out the window and saw you. Hey, do you two want to stay? We're getting moo shu."
It was so like Uncle Chris to go from wanting to beat John up one minute, to inviting him for moo shu the next.
"Uh, maybe," I said. I pointed to the French doors, looking questioningly at John. He nodded. "Let's see how it goes, okay, Uncle Chris?"
"That'd be good," Uncle Chris said. "We could talk all this out."
John followed me inside, Uncle Chris trailing behind us, his expression curious rather than suspicious.
"I hate it when families fight," Uncle Chris was saying. "It makes it so uncomfortable ... "
I suppose I should have counted it lucky that it had been Uncle Chris, and not some other adult, I'd run into first at home. I wasn't sure if it was because of all the years he'd sent out of mainstream society-he still had no idea how to text, or what Google was-or if his personality was really this childlike. — Meg Cabot

I don't care if you hate me or if you like me, as long as somebody gives me a character that is really a character to play. It's fun to be able to have a character and have a director that can direct you into a character. I'm just so happy that I got a good role. I don't care if it's bad or if it's good, and I don't care if it's drama or comedy. They are just so rare to come across. — Salma Hayek

Brain: You don't want this.
Hormones: Dude, this is EXACTLY what I want.
B: No, not like this - she's wasted.
H: What's your point?
B: She won't remember this, and if she does, she'll be angry.
H: Do you see where her hand is? God, that feels good. Can't you feel that?
B: She's drunk. You can't do this. It's wrong
H: I want to do this.
B: Really? You want to go to school and say you scored with Bethany Milbury when she was so drunk she barely knew her name?
H:
H:
H: You're an asshole. I hate you.
B: She needs to eat something and drink some water. Don't let her drink anymore beer.
H:
H: Yeah, I know
B: She'll love you for taking care of her. She'll love that you respected her.
H: Five more minutes? Just five?
B: Now.
H: I can't believe you're making me do this. — Laurie Halse Anderson

He'll be cross if he sees I have been crying. They don't like you to cry. He doesn't cry. I wish to God I could make him cry. I wish I could make him cry and tread the floor and feel his heart heavy and big and festering in him. I wish I could hurt him like hell.
He doesn't wish that about me. I don't think he even knows how he makes me feel. I wish he could know, without my telling him. They don't like you to tell them they've made you cry. They don't like you to tell them you're unhappy because of them. If you do, they think you're possessive and exacting. And then they hate you. They hate you whenever you say anything you really think. You always have to keep playing little games. Oh, I thought we didn't have to; I thought this was so big I could say whatever I meant. I guess you can't, ever. I guess there isn't ever anything big enough for that. — Dorothy Parker

Remind me again-why do you hate me so much?"
I don't hate you."
Could've fooled me."
She folded her cap of invisibility. "Look ... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals."
Why?"
She sighed. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her."
They must really like olives."
Oh, forget it."
Now, if she'd invented pizza-that I could understand. — Rick Riordan

I'm not going to let my insecurities keep me from having a good time. I think that if you don't loose your self-consciousness, you can't really be present in a situation. For example, if you're at The Louvre, but you're thinking about how much you hate your jeans, you're not really at The Louvre. So in your memory, when you look back, you're always going to be like, "I was wearing those jeans I hated". And you're not going to remember anything else. — Christina Ricci

I've got to get Brittany alone if I'm gonna have any chance of saving face and saving my Honda. Does her freakout session mean she really doesn't hate me? I've never seen that girl do anything not scripted or 100 percent intentional. She's a robot. Or so I thought. She's always looked and acted like a princess on camera every time I've seen her. Who knew it'd be my bloody arm that would crack her.
I look over at Brittany. She's focused on my arm and Miss Koto's ministrations. I wish we were back in the library. I could swear back there she was thinking about getting it on with me.
I'm sporting la tengo dura right here in front of Miss Koto just thinking about it. Gracias a Dios the nurse walks over to the medicine cabinet. Where's a large chem book when you need one? — Simone Elkeles

You can't cheat kids. If you cheat them when they're children they'll make you pay when they're sixteen or seventeen by revolting against you or hating you or all those so-called teenage problems. I think that's finally when they're old enough to stand up to you and say, 'What a hypocrite you've been all this time. You've never given me what I really wanted, which is you. — John Lennon

The thing I hate most in acting is asking permission to do things. What you really want to do is say, 'This is my need; this is what's going to get me further; this is what's going to be alive. I don't ever say, 'Do you mind if ... ?' I just come in and do it. — Lance Henriksen

Dear Complete and Utter Stranger,
The first thing that I have to say is that I hate oatmeal. I really hate it. And you know what? If you like oatmeal at all? I mean even the tiniest bit? I mean, say you were lost in the Himalayas, right, and you hadn't eaten anything except a Mars Bar for about seven years, right, and you're really cold and your fingers are all dropping off, right, and you look behind this rock, and there's this bowl of oatmeal?
Say you would even think about eating the oatmeal?
Well, JUST DON'T BOTHER WRITING TO ME, OKAY? — Jaclyn Moriarty

There's so much to argue about. That was the goal with 'Really Really.' Somebody asked me once, 'How should I feel when I leave?' and I said, 'Hopefully, you're talkative.' I don't really care if you're happy or sad or loved it or hated it or hate me. The goal is that you have something to say, that you have a response. — Paul Downs Colaizzo

Seriously? You're okay with sharing? Most of my dates hate when I ask to taste their food."

"Saffron." His tone has grown rather severe.

"Yes?"

"First, I don't want to hear about your other dates, it'll only piss me off. You are here with me."

Possessive much? And yet that declaration has my tummy flip-flopping in pleasure.

"Fair. What's two?"

"If I don't share then I won't be getting any of that and I really want to try that."

"Oh, Logan, yes you do. This is like crack."

His smile comes in a flash. "Then hand me your bread plate. — L.A. Fiore

She started out of the kitchen, then stopped and put her hand on my shoulder, bending down to kiss me gently on the forehead. She smelled like vanilla and Joy perfume, and suddenly I felt like I might start crying again. "You really scared me, Caitlin," she said, smiling as she brushed her fingers through my hair. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you." I could tell her, I told myself. I could tell her right now and fix this. I could say that he hits me and I hate cheerleading and I miss Cass but I know why she left and I wish I could make everything better but I can't, I can't, I can't even tell you where it hurts, not now. "Don't worry," I said instead, as she ruffled my hair and walked away, my mother, to do what she did best, to take care of me. "I'm fine. — Sarah Dessen

You have to hate them, you mean? You can't decide: I will or I won't hate them?"

Amar did not completely understand. "But I hate them now," he explained. "The day Allah wants me to stop hating them, He'll change my heart."

The man was smiling, as if to himself. "If the world's really like that, it's very easy to be in it," he said.

"It will never be easy to be in the world," Amar said firmly. "Er tabi mabrhach. God doesn't want it easy. — Paul Bowles

Jesus evokes extreme reactions. Some are so furious with him they try to throw him off a cliff and kill him. Others are so terrified they cry out, "Depart. . . . Get away from me!"5 Others fall down before him and worship him. Why the extremes? It is because of the claims about who he is. If he is who he said he is, then you have to center your whole life on him. And if he is not who he said he is, then he is someone to hate or run away from. But no other response makes any sense. Either he is God or he isn't - so he's absolutely crazy or infinitely wonderful. The modern world, however, is filled with people who say they believe in Jesus, they say they understand who he is, but it hasn't revolutionized their lives. There has been no crisis and lasting change. The only way to explain this is that, contrary to what they claim, they haven't really grasped the meaning that he is "God with us." IT — Timothy J. Keller

Kaien Cross: You both entered the room in the same pose! Ooh! If Yuki had seen it, she'd have been so happy! The mystique!
Ichiru: Zero, is he always like this?
Zero: Yeah ... he doesn't act anything like his "former self" now ... why're you sticking to me?
Ichiru: Because you hate it when I do it (I'm being a pest).
Zero(to Cross): Hey. Don't take a photo.
Kaien Cross (thinking): The Kiryus really are twins. — Matsuri Hino

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

I think there must be probably different types of suicides. I'm not one of the self-hating ones. The type of like "I'm shit and the world'd be better off without poor me" type that says that but also imagines what everybody'll say at their funeral. I've met types like that on wards. Poor-me-I-hate-me-punish-me-come-to-my-funeral. Then they show you a 20 X 25 glossy of their dead cat. It's all self-pity bullshit. It's bullshit. I didn't have any special grudges. I didn't fail an exam or get dumped by anybody. All these types. Hurt themselves. I didn't want to especially hurt myself. Or like punish. I don't hate myself. I just wanted out. I didn't want to play anymore is all. I wanted to just stop being conscious. I'm a whole different type. I wanted to stop feeling this way. If I could have just put myself in a really long coma I would have done that. Or given myself shock I would have done that. Instead. — David Foster Wallace

I hate being called a homosexual because I don't feel that way. It really upsets me ... Being gay can happen in any walk of life, in any world. If you have one gay experience, does that mean you're gay? If you have one heterosexual experience, does that mean you're straight? Life doesn't work quite so cut and dried. — Billie Jean King

I hate belongings. I hate clutter. It really bothers me because I can't think properly. If you've got distractions in front of you, your mind goes nuts. — Simon Cowell

What if I hate it?" "As long as you've given it a fair shot, then we'll talk about it and figure it out." "If it really, really sucked, I could move back and live with Dad." "Yeah, you could. Though I'd like to think living with me wouldn't really, really, suck." "I've never moved out of Whitford, either. What if I hate Brookline?" "You sure as hell can't go live with Dean. — Shannon Stacey

Looking into his eyes she pleaded, "Don't hurt me like that again, Greg, please. I couldn't bear the way you looked at me like you hated me."She sobbed.
He grasped her face in his hands. "I could never hate you. It's me that I hate. I'll never,ever be so stupid again, I promise. I'm such an idiot. I care about you so much. I would never really want to hurt you, ever. I just don't know what else to do Mallory...I...I love you so much...I don't care anymore if it's wrong...All I care about is you. If friends are what we are then that's what we are. I'll get used to it, I promise I will." He hugged her again, "I can't be without you in my life. I said some terrible things.Can you forgive me? — Lisa J. Hobman

No," I said automatically, "don't do anything about Dad. You can't fix my relationship with him."
"I can block or run interference."
"Thanks, Jack, but I don't need blocking, and I really don't need any more interference."
He looked annoyed. "Well, why did you waste all that time complaining to me if you didn't want me to do something about it?"
"I don't want you to fix my problems. I just wanted you to listen."
"Hang it all, Haven, talk to a girlfriend if all you want is a pair of ears. Guys hate it when you give us a problem and then don't let us do something about it. It makes us feel bad. And then the only way to make ourselves feel better is to rip a phone book in two or blow something up. So let's get this straight - I'm not a good listener. I'm a guy."
"Yes you are." I stood and smiled. "Want to buy me a drink at an after work bar?"
"Now you're talking," my brother said, and we left the office. — Lisa Kleypas

You told me i was your world.
It wasn't me. I was an animal."
My heart pounded. My cheeks burned.
You never wanted it to end.
"Why are you being such a jackass, slamming me in the face with my own humiliation?"
Humilation? That's what you call this? He forced a more detailed reminder on me.
I swallowed. Yes, I certainly remembered that. "I was out of my mind. I'd never have done it otherwise."

Really, his dark eyes mocked, and in them I was demanding more, telling him I wanted it to always be this way.
I remembered what he'd replied: that one day I would wonder if it was possible to hate him more. — Karen Marie Moning

I said, God, the press and people, they just really hate me and I'm really trying. Geraldine Page said, Listen to this, Tab. If people don't like you, that's their bad taste. — Tab Hunter

Yet you're helping me. Why? (Arik)
Nothing better to do. Eternity is boring. Really boring. I'm hoping that when you pop the seal on Atlantis, there will be a giant explosion to add some humor and interest to my life. If we're really lucky, Apollymi will come out and thoroughly entertain us with a massive fireworks display. Hell, if she does half of what she did last time, there will be belly rolls aplenty for those of us who hate the Olympians and humanity. (Solin) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Charles Wallace looked troubled. I don't think it's that. It's being able to understand a sort of language, like sometimes if I concentrate very hard I can understand the wind talking with the trees. You tell me, you see, sort of inad - inadvertently. That's a good word, isn't it? I got Mother to look it up in the dictionary for me this morning. I really must learn to read, except I'm afraid it will make it awfully hard for me in school next year if I already know things. I think it will be better if people go on thinking I'm not very bright. They won't hate me quite so much. — Madeleine L'Engle

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

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

I am Outcast."
"The kids behind me laugh so loud I know they're laughing about me. I can't help myself. I turn around. It's Rachel, surrounded by a bunch of kids wearing clothes that most definitely did not come from the EastSide Mall. Rachel Bruin, my ex-best friend. She stares at something above my left ear. Words climb up my throat. This was the girl who suffered through Brownies with me, who taught me how to swim, who understood about my parents, who didn't make fun of my bedroom. If there is anyone in the entire galaxy I am dying to tell what really happened, it's Rachel. My throat burns."
"Her eyes meet mine for a second. "I hate you," she mouths silently. — Laurie Halse Anderson

All I want is to mess around, and I don't really care about, if you love me, if you hate me, you can't save me, baby baby, all my life I've been good — Avril Lavigne

I don't know whether the spider perhaps does not hate the fly he has marked and is snaring. Dear little fly! It seems to me that the victim is loved, or at least may be loved. Here I love my enemy. I am delighted, for instance, that she is so beautiful. I am delighted, madam, that you are so haughty and majestic. If you were meeker it would not be so delightful. You have spat on me
and I am triumphant. If you were literally to spit in my face I should really not be angry because you
are my victim; mine and not his. How fascinating was that idea! Yes, the secret consciousness of power is more insupportably delightful than open domination. If I were a millionaire I believe I should take pleasure in going about in the oldest clothes and being taken for a destitute man, almost a beggar, being jostled and despised. The consciousness of the truth would be enough for me. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky