The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, shows us to others, but hides us from ourselves.
We hate some persons because we do not know them; and will not know them because we hate them.
We are more inclined to hate one another for points on which we differ, than to love one another for points on which we agree. The reason perhaps is this: when we find others that agree with us, we seldom trouble ourselves to confirm that agreement; but when we chance on those who differ from us, we are zealous both to convince and to convert them. Our pride is hurt by the failure, and disappointed pride engenders hatred.
Pity a thing often avowed, seldom felt; hatred is a thing often felt, seldom avowed.
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