Why They Hate Me Quotes & Sayings

Well I can understand why men want it to be legal. Obviously they're all hoping they might get to marry me someday. I hate to burst their bubble, but they should just give it up now. Zach Braff doesn't sway that way, you know? — Zach Braff

Pete Kilner, of West Point's Center for the Advancement of Leader Development and Organizational Learning, recalls a company commander in Iraq telling him why he'd stayed very strict about the rules of engagement in the war's very worst days. "The guys hate me now," Kilner recounts him saying, "but they're going to thank me for the rest of their lives. I saw what happened in 2003. The guys who were out there being the mad killers everyone thought were so cool, they came back, they drank and beat their wives. They divorced and killed themselves. I'm not going to let my guys do that. — Phil Zabriskie

Love or hate me, I stay hate free
They say we learn from mistakes, well, that's why they mistake me — Lil' Wayne

I won't telephone him. I'll never telephone him again as long as I live. He'll rot in hell, before I'll call him up. You don't have to give me strength, God; I have it myself. If he wanted me, he could get me. He knows where I am. He knows I'm waiting here. He's so sure of me, so sure. I wonder why they hate you, as soon as they are sure of you. — Dorothy Parker

Thank you for getting me," I try to say. My lips are so tired they don't want to move.
"Anytime,Zara.Really.I mean it." He seems to be smelling my hair.
"I know you hate me and everything but we should be friends," I tell him, closing my eyes.
"I don't hate you," he says. "That's not it at all."
"What is it then? Are you a victim of parthenophobia?"
"Parthenophobia?"
"Fear of girls."
"You are so strange." He moves back even closer to me, this wicked glint in his eyes like he's trying hard not to snort-laugh at me. His hand presses against the side of my head. Nobody has ever touched me like this before, all gentle and romantic, but strong at the same time. "I'm not afraid of girls."
"Then why haven't you kissed any?"
For a second his eyes flash. "Maybe the right one hasn't come around yet. — Carrie Jones

How does Chekhov's artistic "programme" comment on the message of The Duel, and vice versa? I should like to be a free artist and nothing more, and I regret that God has not given me the power to be one. I hate lying and violence in all their forms ... Pharisaism, stupidity and despotism reign not in merchants' houses and prisons alone. I see them in science, in literature, in the younger generation ... That is why I have no preference either for gendarmes, or for butchers, or for scientists, or for writers, or for the younger generation. I regard trade-marks and labels as a superstition. My holy of holies is the human body, health, intelligence, talent, inspiration, love, and the most absolute freedom - freedom from violence and lying, whatever forms they may take. This is the programme I would follow if I were a great artist.* — Anton Chekhov

A lot of people hate my skepticism, and I think I understand why. The psychics offer wonders and endless possibilities in a world that often seems difficult and mundane. They promise health, wealth, wisdom, eternal life. But if you examine the record, it's not the psychics but the hard-nosed scientists who have actually delivered the things that improve human life. And, to me, science describes a world far more interesting than any psychic fantasy. It's a good world
not perfect
but it's ours. So we'd better learn to live with it, the way it is. — James Randi

Ultimately, the main reasons why I will be chubby for life are (1) I have virtually no hobbies except dieting. I can't speak any non-English languages, knit, ski, scrapbook, or cook. I have no pets. I don't know how to do drugs. I lost my passport three years ago when I moved into my house and never got it renewed. Video games scare me because they all seem to simulate situations I'd hate to be in, like war or stealing cars. So if I ever lost weight I would also lose my only hobby; (2) I have no discipline; I'm like if Private Benjamin had never toughened up but, in fact, got worse; (3) Guys I've dated have been into me the way I am; and (4) I'm pretty happy with the way I look, so long as I don't break a beach chair. — Mindy Kaling

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

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

I wear makeup and I don dramatic attire because I like control. I'm not interested in controlling others but I'm invested in strict self-governance. This is why I don't do many face-to-face interviews. I don't like being caught off-guard. It all goes back to that attempt to create order amidst disorder. One of the most frightening things about losing your mind is that you feel like your body, your brain, every part of your essence is being invaded. There is such a palpable helplessness to that narrative and I hate the sense of victimhood that it implies. Certainly, this is how I felt during my moments of psychological disquiet. I felt like my personhood was under attack. Performativity is important to me because I'm the teller of my own stories. I have been performing these multiple roles for so long that they have bled into my identity. I have become the man that I always wanted to be. — Diriye Osman

I can't explain the motive of ever Christian, but for me... the answer is obvious. Our Savior was Jewish. His disciples were Jewish. They were born in Israel. They lived in the Promised Land. Jesus preached to 'the lost sheep of Israel.' He died on the cross in Jerusalem. He was raised from the dead in Jerusalem. And the Bible teaches that our Savior is coming back again to reign and rule from Jerusalem. Why shouldn't we love Jews, then? Jesus never taught us to hate anyone. He taught us to love, and he set the supreme example for us to follow. Jesus commanded us to love one another. He commanded us to love our neighbor as ourselves. You're my neighbor, Jacob, If not you, then who? You're from the same family and people as my Savior. How could I hate you or do you wrong? — Joel C. Rosenberg

Some people say I make mistakes. I just say that in fact this is the secret of enjoying life. I hate monotony. Why don't they leave me freedom of choice? People want to impose choices which aren't necessarily mine. That's the mistake people make. — Bode Miller

Then why do they hate me?
No, they don't. They are just confused. Something different always confuses others. It makes them feel uncomfortable. — E. Mellyberry

Why does the world hate me? They both laughed, but it wasn't funny. SERIOUSLY. Why does the world hate me? — Cora Carmack

Someone: You were pretty good at that thing, why'd you stop doing it?

Me internally: I get extremely anxious when I think about doing something I might possibly succeed at because I base my self-worth on my achievements and other people's approval. I am afraid because I know I will never be able to live up to my own unrealistic expectations. I hate making mistakes because they make me feel worthless. I take negative feedback too personally. I feel immense guilt over not doing things that I've been avoiding, which makes me avoid them more. I feel ashamed and inadequate due to how difficult it is for me to stay committed to anything. I'm worried that I'll just end up disappointing myself and the entire world and I am convinced that if I failed I would literally die.

Me externally: idk I guess I've just been kinda busy lol — Unknown

It is not depression or anxiety that truly hurts us. It is our active resistance against these states of mind and body. If you wake up with low energy, hopeless thoughts, and a lack of motivation - that is a signal from you to you. That is a sure sign that something in your mind or in your life is making you sick, and you must attend to that signal. But what do most people do? They hate their depressed feelings. They think "Why me?" They push them down. They take a pill. And so, the feelings return again and again, knocking at your door with a message while you turn up all the noise in your cave, refusing to hear the knocks. Madness. Open the door. Invite in depression. Invite anxiety. Invite self-hatred. Invite shame. Hear their message. Give them a hug. Accept their tirades as exaggerated mistruths typical of any upset person. Love your darkness and you shall know your light. — Vironika Tugaleva

You can hate me, but why knock my hustle? I'ma be the queen no matter how they shuffle. — Nicki Minaj

You're a superhero. Shut up and enjoy having superpowers. This makes me crazy. This is why the Marvel movies kick DC movies' asses right and left. Because, I'm not paying $15 for a movie to go watch people being morose about lives that are much more interesting and exciting than mine and they hate them. I'm paying my money to see people sort of revel in doing things that I can't do. — Mark Waid

Over the years most of my peers had come to hate me - I never understood why. I guess I was just different and, like dogs, they could smell it. So I never had many friends. — Sol Luckman

I know what you mean about wishing somebody wasn't there, though. It's just usually it's myself that I wish I could get away from. Seriously, think about this. I have never been anywhere that I haven't been. I've never had a kiss when I wasn't one of the kissers. Y'know, I've never, um, gone to the movies, when I wasn't there in the audience. I've never been out bowling, if I wasn't there, y'know making some stupid joke. I think that's why so many people hate themselves. Seriously, it's just they are sick to death of being around themselves.
Jesse: Let's say that you and I were together all the time, then you'd start to hate a lot of my mannerisms. The way every time we would have people over, uh, I'd be insecure, and I'd get a little too drunk. Or, uh, the way I'd tell the same stupid pseudo-intellectual story again, and again. Y'see, I've heard all those stories. So of course I'm sick of myself. But being with you, uh, it's made me feel like I'm somebody else. — Jesse

And I understand my sisters when they say every woman has a story that's been told a maxim of one soul, maybe less
And that is why you'll never hear me call a woman slut, bitch or a dyke,
No matter what she does, because I do not blame her
I blame the men who have emotionally and physically raped her,
I blame these corporations whose images tell them they hate her,
And I put my arms on her shoulder and tell her how great to life and
to God that SHE created her — Mark Gonzales

Why do they call me misanthrope? Because They hate me, not I them. — George Gordon Byron

Why shouldn't I hate her? She did the worst thing to me that anyone can do to anyone else. Let them believe that they're loved and wanted and then show them that it's all a sham. — Agatha Christie

It's the way I am."
"How did you become this way?"
"Why is anyone the way they are? That's kind of hard to answer. Why do some people like cheese and other people hate it? Do you like cheese? Mrs. Jones - my housekeeper - has left this for supper." He takes some large, white plates from a cupboard and places one in front of me. We're talking about cheese ... Holy crap. — E.L. James

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

When I get to Club Mystique at nine, Alex sneaks up behind me outside. I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck.
"Whoa, girl," he says, taken aback. "I thought we were keepin' this thing between us a secret. I hate to tell you, but a bunch of north siders from Fairfield are right over there. And they're starin' at us."
"I don't care. Not anymore."
"Why?"
"You only live once."
He seems to like my answer, because he takes my hand in his and leads me to the back of the line. It's cold outside, so he opens his leather jacket and envelopes me in his warmth while we wait to get in.
I look up at him, our bodies pressed together. "Are you going to dance with me tonight?" I ask.
"Hell, yeah."
"Colin never wanted to dance with me."
"I'm not Colin, querida, and never will be."
"Good. I've got you, Alex. I realize it's all I need and I'm ready to share it with the world. — Simone Elkeles

I always feel when I meet people that I am lower than all, and that they all take me for a buffoon; so I say let me play the buffoon, for you are, every one of you, stupider and lower than I." He longed to revenge himself on every one for his own unseemliness. He suddenly recalled how he had once in the past been asked, "Why do you hate so and so, so much?" And he had answered them, with his shameless impudence, "I'll tell you. He has done me no harm. But I played him a dirty trick, and ever since I have hated him. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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

They say love is blind, but for me it's the opposite. It makes me see the good in him, too, which is why I can never hate him.'
Mom (Fran) — Jack Gantos

They talk of me going around buying souls, like a fishwife come market day, never stopping to ask themselves why. I need no souls. And how can anyone own a soul? No. They belong to themselves ... they just hate to face up to it. — Neil Gaiman

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

I dread finding Cassius. I hope he is dead, because I'm afraid of him. He reminds me of Dancer - handsome, laughing, yet a dragon just beneath the surface. But that's not why I'm afraid. I'm afraid because he has a reason to hate me, to want to kill me. No one in my life has had just cause before. No one has ever hated me. He will if he finds out. Then I realize it. How could the House ever be knit tightly with such secrets? It can't. Cassius will know someone here killed his brother. Others will have lost friends, and so the House will devour itself. The Society did this on purpose; they want chaos. It will be our second test. Tribal strife. — Pierce Brown

Life is messy, Ren. It's not easy and it's definitely not for the timid. Everyone has a past. Things that stab them right between the eyes. Old grudges. Old shame. Regrets that steal your sleep and leave you awake until you fear for your own sanity. Betrayals that make your soul scream so loud you wonder why no one else hears it. In the end, we are all alone in that private hell. But life isn't about learning to forgive those who have hurt you or forgetting the past. It's about learning to forgive yourself for being human and making mistakes. Yes, people disappoint us all the time. But the harshest lessons come when we disappoint ourselves. When we put our trust and our hearts into the hands of the wrong person and they do us wrong. And while we may hate them for what they did, the one we hate most is ourself for allowing them into our private circle. How could I have been so stupid? How could I let them deceive me? We all go through that. It's humanity's brotherhood of misery. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I hate to talk about myself like that, but if I had to straight up tell a head coach or an owner why they should take me, it's because I'm the best in everything I've done. — Robert Griffin III

How did you know what's been killing me? Slowly, for years, driving me to hate people when I don't want to hate ... Have you felt it, too? Have you seen how your best friends love everything about you
except the things that count? And your most important is nothing to them, nothing, not even a sound they can recognize. You mean, you want to hear? You want to know what I do and why I do it, you want to know what I think? It's not boring to you? It's important? — Ayn Rand

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

But the shouts and smell of smoke had a powerful effect on me. I don't say they excited me, but they gave a sort of universality to what I was feeling. I am who I am because I am not them - well, I was not alone in feeling that. We were all who we were because we were not them. So why did that translate into hate? I don't know, but when everyone's feeling the same thing it can appear to be reasonableness. — Howard Jacobson

The psyche questionnaire asks me to list the things I dislike. Why don't they just use the word, hate? Why is everyone so afraid to admit they hate something? I write Advil, and then add Athens, Afghanistan and the U.S. Army. "In conclusion, I hate a lot of things that begin with the letter A," I write in the space provided. — Katherine Owen

I would hate to have parents who were always looking over my shoulder, reading my diary, checking my thoughts. I would hate to be exposed. And so, perhaps, when I say I long to be a pane of glass, I am lying. I long for partial obscurity at the same time that I long for someone to know me.
It is confusing and difficult to be me.
Sometimes I I need to cry in order to release the great welling sadness I feel in my head.
For this I need privacy. I do not want anyone to see me and ask why, almost as much as I would like to be comforted.
Somehow, without ever being present, Matthew has exposed all of this, brought it wriggling to the surface like worms. They gather there now, vaguely nostalgic for the dark. — Meg Rosoff

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

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

I hate all the old pictures of me before 2010 - and they are always the first ones to come up. That's why I don't Google myself, man. — Big Sean

I hate nice girls.
Just exchanging greetings with them will get them on your mind.
Start texting each other, and your heart will be set a flutter.
If they call you, you're done for.
Enjoy staring at your logs and grinning like a fool.
However, I won't get fooled again. That's what your kind calls kindness.
If you're nice to me, you're nice to others.
I always end up nearly forgetting that. Reality is cruel,
So I'm sure lies are a form of kindness.
Thus, I say kindness itself is also a lie.
I always ended up with these expectations.
And I always ended up with these misunderstandings.
And before I knew it, I stopped hoping.
A highly trained loner is once bitten, twice shy.
As a veteran on this battlefield of life, I've gotten used to losing.
That's why I always hate nice girls. - Hachiman Hikigaya — Wataru Watari

He taunted me, "Pony boy, pony boy," because I liked ponies. Pony boy. He always came to vent his anger of dragons on me. They must really like us. They hide behind their Wasp Queen and pretend to hate us dragons, but in truth they love us. Why else would they bother with fucking us? That sentence probably turned you off. Thing is, I'm a very vulgar boy.
-Chance Karrucci (the Sweet Dragon) — L'Poni Baldwin

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

I used to say things like, 'My name's not Al (Bundy), you know?' Not to the press, but to fans. 'My name is actually Ed.' I'd find myself saying that, and I'd think, 'Who do you think they think you are? They only know you from that!' And finally I just got ... I don't know, I guess a switch went on for me, and I realized, 'This was the greatest job that you've ever had in your life. Why are you acting like an asshole?' So from that minute on, I kind of ... well, I hate the word 'embraced,' but I just kind of went, 'Yeah, okay.' 'So you're Al, right?' 'Yep!' — Ed O'Neill

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

The talking shows allow me to come out of my cave and that's why those shows go on for so long. I hate walking off stage. Sometimes I walk off and I miss them as I'm walking off the stage. I wonder if they'll let me go another hour. That's why I do it: to communicate, to get points across. — Henry Rollins

You really want my honest opinion?" I ask.
Anton gestures for me to go on. "Please, this is why I hired you, devochka."
I detect a little hint of sarcasm, but I go ahead and say, "I hate restaurants like this."
"Why?" He seems genuinely curious to know why.
"Because - because they're expensive."
"What is the problem? I'm paying for everything."
I shake my head. "It's not that - you see," I lower my voice, " this is where famous people eat."
"Famous?" Anton pretends to look around. "Where?"
"I think that's the guy from that prank show. And there's that guy from those vampire movies. And Maya Findlay."
"Yeah? I don't know who they are."
"Really?" I ask dubiously.
"I'm not into the famous people thing too."
"Really."
"Yes."
"Which is why you only date models who want to become actresses." I notice him giving me a look. "Sorry," I say sheepishly. — Maria Malonzo

DEMON MATH
What is JUST in a world
you've ripped in two
as if there could be
a half for me
a half for you
what is FAIR when
there is nothing
left to share
what is YOURS when
your pain is mine to bear
this sad math is mine
this mad path is mine
subtract they say
don't cry
back to the desk
try
forget addition
multiply
and i reply
this is why
remainders
hate
division. — Kami Garcia

I think people fancy me. They can't figure me out. I'm an attractive guy. I make good money and I score goals. I'm the kind of guy I believe people love. And, at the same time, they can't figure out why they love me so much, so they decide to hate me. — Jeff Cunningham

At best Grey and his father lied because they were scared. And at worst they lied because they were somehow involved. Either way they lied and I intend to find out why. You can hate me if you want. You can blame me for all of this, for keeping the truth from you. You can help me, or you can leave. But the one thing you can't do is stop me. — Carrie Ryan

Yeah, it stings. But at least I feel something. Something besides hungry. Something besides afraid. Weird. I always thought cutters were sick. Sicker than me, even. But with a single swipe I understand why they do it. Why they like it, even though they hate it. I let the water run over the cut, ratchet it hotter, watch the blood slow, stutter, almost halt. I like the way the exposed flesh looks, all pinkish white. It looks new, although I know that isn't right. It's the same age as my skin, as my bones. Me. It's been there with me since the beginning. Been with me through thick. Thin. Daddy. Suddenly, I don't like how it looks at all. — Ellen Hopkins

Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle,
Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong.
Think rather,
call to thought, if now you grieve a little,
The days when we had rest, O soul, for they were long.
Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry
I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;
Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:
Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.
Now, and I muse for why and never find the reason,
I pace the earth, and drink the air, and feel the sun.
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
Let us endure an hour and see injustice done.
Ay, look: high heaven and earth ail from the prime foundation;
All thoughts to rive the heart are here, and all are vain:
Horror and scorn and hate and fear and indignation
Oh why did I awake? when shall I sleep again? — A.E. Housman

You know why they hate me, cause they love me. — Lil Boosie

Betrayals that make your soul scream so loud you wonder why no one else hears it. In the end, we are all alone in that private hell. But life isn't about learning to forgive those who have hurt you or forgetting the past. It's about learning to forgive yourself for being human and making mistakes. Yes, people disappoint us all the time. But the harshest lessons come when we disappoint ourselves. When we put our trust and our hearts into the hands of the wrong person and they do us wrong. And while we may hate them for what they did, the one we hate most is ourself for allowing them into our private circle. How could I have been so stupid? How could I let them deceive me? — Sherrilyn Kenyon

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

Niten's eyes didn't move, but a trace of a smile curled his lips. "I do not need my eyes to tell me where I'm going." "I have no idea what that means," Josh said. "Is it like some sort of ninja trick?" Niten shot Josh a warning look. "Whatever you do, don't mention-" It was too late. In the backseat Aoife stirred. "Ninjas," she spat. "Why is everyone so obsessed with ninjas? They were never that good. And they were cowards, sneaking around in their black pajamas, stabbing their victims with poisoned darts. I hate ninjas-they have no honor. — Michael Scott