Fear is the brother of hate.
Larry NivenLove is both wondrous and yet full of peril. Love is a gateway through which hatred - disguised and unrecognized - can pass.
David GemmellTag: love hate emotion corruption
Hate is strewn like confetti by the fear-fueled, specious, tiny- dicked (or un-tender) vacuous dictators, of any gender, whom never knew true love, only sadism. They ALL need some good pharma.
Elizabeth Lucye RobillardTag: love hate sadism fear-and-loathing
Just be careful. Passion is a bridge that connects love and hate. When you're standing in the middle of that bridge, don't let yourself get turned around. You've got to make sure you know which direction you're heading. Watch yourself.
Jay BellAnd I don’t even like you, but the pain of life without you is biting.
Coco J. GingerTag: friend friendship love hate missing-you passionate-living jamie-weise
You’re a mess, I confess, I despise you in the best kind of way.
Coco J. GingerTag: passion hate relationships love-hate-relationship
I’m mistaken….
for thinking you were someone with a heart worth breaking.
Tag: love hate heart heartbreak mean short-story heartbreaking love-story jamie-weise
Tricks ripped and you tripped, tricked yourself by falling slowly.
I’m the winner in this game,
unable to stoop to your level of shame.
Unwilling to reply to your words of ache.
Tag: love tricks hate shame heartbreak ache love-story lesson-learned the-game jamie-weise tricked
Love unrequited is violent. He loves you so much that he's turned it into hate.
Lauren DeStefanoDid you find anything special?' Blackie asked.
T. nodded. 'Come over here,' he said, 'and look.' Out of both pockets he drew bundles of pound notes. 'Old Misery's savings,' he said. 'Mike ripped out the mattress, but he missed them.'
'What are you going to do? Share them?'
'We aren't thieves,' T. said. 'Nobody's going to steal anything from this house. I kept these for you and me - a celebration.' He knelt down on the floor and counted them out - there were seventy in all. 'We'll burn them,' he said, 'one by one,' and taking it in turns they held a note upwards and lit the top corner, so that the flame burnt slowly towards their fingers. The grey ash floated above them and fell on their heads like age. 'I'd like to see Old Misery's face when we are through,' T. said.
'You hate him a lot?' Blackie asked.
'Of course I don't hate him,' T. said. 'There'd be no fun if I hated him.' The last burning note illuminated his brooding face. 'All this hate and love,' he said, 'it's soft, it's hooey. There's only things, Blackie,' and he looked round the room crowded with the unfamiliar shadows of half things, broken things, former things. 'I'll race you home, Blackie,' he said. ("The Destructors")
Tag: money love hate things materialism objects
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