Hate What You Did Quotes

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Hate What You Did Quotes

Why did you want to live here? No offense, but it doesnt really seem to be your style." He paused at her room. "I think I might ought to be offended by that. What exactly are you saying about my style?" She paused, too, then shrugged. "I dont know. You just seem to be the kind of guy to have a man cave, not something this ... " "Refined?" She shook her head affirmatively. "Well, that just shows what you know. For your information, I do like some fancy things." "Like what? Lacy underwear?" "On my women, yeah." He flashed that grin at her that she was learning to hate. Not for any reason other than the fact that it softened his features and made him terribly irresistible.
— Sherrilyn Kenyon —

Sorry," I said ...
"Sorry for what?" He glanced over at me.
"For whatever I did wrong," I said.
"Did you do something?"
I shrugged, "Why are you not talking to me?"
"I'm just driving." He moved his hand from the gearshift onto my leg. "Do you like snowmobiling?"
"I love it," I said.
He shot me a look. "Have you ever gone snowmobiling before?"
"No," I said.
He smiled. God, I hate his smile, I love it so much.

— Rachel Vail

I'm so tired of being alone," Heller whispered, voice broken. "So very tired of being on the outside looking in. Please ... "
I tightened my arms around him. Could Heller be asking for what I thought?
"What, Heller? Please what? What do you want?"
"You," Heller murmured. "I want you. Please tell me you don't hate me for what I did. Or how I acted in the beginning. Please give me a chance ... please don't leave me."
Squeezing my eyes closed, I fought not to let the tears escape, my heart threatening to break at the anguish I heard in Heller's voice.

— M.A. Church

And what does he feel?"
"He feels uneasy. A little afaid. Angry. Oddly, a hint of pride."
"Good," Henry said. "ANd where are you?"
"Backstage."
Henry shook his head gravely. "THere's no such thing as backstage. The play begins, and there's only the world it dramatizes. Now, where are you?"
"With my father, the president. In his chambers."
"Right. With me. Your father. And now
this is important
do you love me?"
Nelson considered this; or rather, Nelson, as Alejo, considered this.
"Yes," he said after a moment. "I do."
"Good. Remember that. In every scene
even when you hate me, you also love me. That's why it hurts. Got it?"
Nelson said that he did.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because it does hurt," Henry said. "DOn't forget that. It's supposed to. Always.

— Daniel Alarcón

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

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

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

You don't really hate me ... do you?" he asked.
"Sometimes I wish that I did. It would make everything a whole hell of a lot easier."
"So what pisses you off more? What I did to make you wanna hate me? Or knowing that you can't?

— Jamie McGuire

Needle&Thread: Kite ... how did everything change? My heart beats for you, my soul craves yours. During the Second Debt we
shared everything. We were free. I hate this distance now. Talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking. You give me nothing,
but I see everything. Trust me. Come to me tonight. Let me show you I'm yours forever. This doesn't have to be complicated.
I love you. Love is simple, kind. Love is forgiveness. Can we forgive each other before it's too late?
Tears ran silently over my cheeks as I pressed send.

— Pepper Winters

And then one day you will look for you in the mirror and you'll no longer be able to identify yourself-you'll only see everyone else. You'll know that you did what they wanted you to do. You will have assimilated. And you will hate yourself for it, because it will be too late.

— Matthew Quick

Love of God thus becomes the dominant passion of life; like every other worth-while love, it demands and inspires sacrifice. But love of God and man, as an ideal, has lately been replaced by the new ideal of tolerance which inspires no sacrifice. Why should any human being in the world be merely tolerated? What man has ever made a sacrifice in the name of tolerance? It leads men, instead, to express their own egotism in a book or a lecture that patronizes the downtrodden group. One of the cruelest things that can happen to a human being is to be tolerated. Never once did Our Lord say, "Tolerate your enemies!" But He did say, "Love your enemies; do good to them that hate you" (Matt. 5:44). Such love can be achieved only if we deliberately curb our fallen nature's animosities.

— Fulton J. Sheen

Oh, Beli; not so rashly, not so rashly: What did you know about states or diasporas? What did you know about Nueba Yol or unheated 'old law' tenements or children whose self-hate short-circuited their minds? What did you know, madame, about immigration? Don't laugh, mi negrita, for your world is about to be changed. Utterly. Yes: a terrible beauty is etc., etc. Take it from me. You laugh because you've been ransacked to the limit of your soul, because your lover betrayed you almost unto death, because your first son was never born. You laugh because you have no front teeth and you've sworn never to smile again.

— Junot Díaz

I hate getting yelled at, that'll get you on my bad side. My mom never yelled at me. She just told us what needed to be done and we did it.

— Edgerrin James

Also, when we did "Smallville," we didn't have an opportunity to interact with people who watched the show. And see what they had to say and listen to criticism and listen to praise at the same time. So a lot of this is a new experience and it's very interesting and rewarding for us. I think we get honest feedback. You get hate. You get a lot of love as well. And I'm actually very curious what people think of the show. For us, it's been a passion project of ours, and an incredibly challenging show to make.

— Miles Millar

You know when you see a mother someplace just melting down on her kid? She's like, 'Shut up, I hate you, you're ugly!' ... Any parents there are thinking, 'What did that shitty kid do to that poor woman? That poor woman. I wish I could help.'

— Louis C.K.

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