The woman is the most perfect doll that i have dressed with delight and admiration.
Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
I must learn to love the fool in me the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries.
Two or three things I know for sure, and one of them is the way you can both hate and love something you are not sure you understand.
The best thing to do is dive with your imagination ~ you can never drown yourself.
Because love and hate were supposed to stand cleanly on opposite sides of the spectrum. The division seemed as clear as...well, angels and demons would once have seemed to her. Not anymore.
Give me those days with heart in riot, The depths of bliss that touched on pain, The force of hate, and love's disquiet- Ah, give me back my youth again!
Oh, let us lose our milk teeth and cut instead the strong teeth of hate and love.
Hate misleads, fear distorts and love blinds.
It is easier to hate those we love, than love those whom we have hated.
If you must hate a man for the many things about which you disagree, remember that you should also love him for the many things about which you agree.
Though love and hatred are as opposites as fire and water, yet do they sometimes subsist in the breast together towards the same person; nay by their very opposition and desire to destroy each other, are they strengthened and increased.
I hate and love. And why, perhaps you’ll ask. I don’t know: but I feel, and I’m tormented.
There are forces in nature called Love and Hate. The force of Love causes elements to be attracted to each other and to be built up into some particular form or person, and the force of Hate causes the decomposition of things.
Within my heart is lurking suspicion, and base fear, and shame and hate; but above all, tyrannous love sits throned, crowned with her graces, silent and in tears.
Tonight love and hate met in St. Louis. And love outnumbered the hate, in poetic thousands. Hate left. But love stayed. + Together, we sang.
It's always wrong to hate, but it's never wrong to love.
I hate and love. You ask, perhaps, how can that be? I know not, but I feel the agony.
Many men are loved by their enemies, and hated by their friends, and are the friends of their enemies, and the enemies of their friends.
Hate and love are essentially the same in that the person who loves is as easily manipulated as a person who hates
That feelings of love and hate make rational judgments impossible in public affairs, as in private affairs, we can clearly enough see in others, though not so clearly in ourselves.
Inspiration is hogwash. My work comes directly out of my loves and hates. Muses don't whisper in my ear, and ideas don't flow over my body like a cool rain.
Commanded love of all men indiscriminately is an obliteration of distinction between love and hate, and therefore is not love at all.
So of course time is necessary. But nevertheless damn painful, for it transforms all the pieces of your life - joy and sorrow, youth and age, love and hate, terror and bliss - from fire into smoke rising up the air and dissipating on a breeze.
If I was a woman in Russia, I would be a lesbian, as the men are very ugly. There are a few handsome ones, like Naomi Campbell's boyfriend, but there you see the most beautiful women and the most horrible men.
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