Shall hope prevail where clamorous hate is rife, Shall sweet love prosper or high dreams have place Amid the tumult of reverberant strife 'Twixt ancient creeds, 'twixt race and ancient race, That mars the grave, glad purposes of life, Leaving no refuge save thy succoring face?
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'And Tomorrow'
Today is filled with anger,
fueled with hidden hate.
Scared of being outkast,
afraid of common fate.
Today is built on tragedies
which no one wants to face.
Nightmares to humanity
and morally disgraced.
Tonight is filled with Rage,
violence in the air.
Children bred with ruthlessness
cause no one at home cares.
Tonight I lay my head down
but the pressure never stops,
knowing that my sanity
content when I`m droped.
But tomorrow I see change,
a chance to build a new,
built on spirit intent
of heart and ideas based on truth.
Tomorrow I wake with second wind
and strong because of pride.
I know I fought with all my heart
to keep the dream alive.
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I’ve seen too much hate to want to hate, myself, and every time I see it, I say to myself, hate is too great a burden to bear. Somehow we must be able to stand up against our most bitter opponents and say:”We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We will meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will and we will still love you.... But be assured that we’ll wear you down by our capacity to suffer, and one day we will win our freedom. We will not only win freedom for ourselves; we will appeal to your heart and conscience that we will win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.
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The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness. We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things. We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less. These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.
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Before you kill something make sure you have something better to replace it with; something better than political opportunist slamming hate horse shit in the public park.
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'I'm sorry that I spelt the word: I hate to go above you,...
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Here lies... Walt Whitman. Aaargh! Damn you Walt Whitman! I... hate... you... Walt... freakin... Whitman, leaves of grass my ass!
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Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.
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Women hate everything which strips off the tinsel of sentiment, and they are right, or it would rob them of their weapons.
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By definition pop is extremely catchy, whether you like it or not, Cobain says. There are some pop songs I hate but I can't get them out of my head. Our songs also have the standard pop format: Verse, chorus, verse, chorus, solo, bad solo. All in all, I think we sound like The Knack and the Bay City Rollers being molested by Black Flag and Black Sabbath.
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All malice has injustice at it's end, an end achieved by violence or by fraud; while both are sins that earn the hate of heaven, since fraud belongs exclusively to man, God hates it more and, therefore, far below, the fraudulent are placed and suffer most
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Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge as made us cynical; our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.
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I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.
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As to the sufferers, whose sole inheritance was labour, and who had lost that inheritance - who could not get work, and consequently could not get wages, and consequently could not get bread - they were left to suffer on, perhaps inevitably left. It would not do to stop the progress of invention, to damage science by discouraging its improvements; the war could not be terminated; efficient relief could not be raised. There was no help then; so the unemployed underwent their destiny - ate the bread and drank the waters of affliction. Misery generates hate. These sufferers hated the machines which they believed took their bread from them; they hated the buildings which contained those machines; they hated the manufacturers who owned those buildings.
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The aura of the theocratic death penalty for adultery still clings to America, even outside New England, and multiple divorce, which looks to the European like serial polygamy, is the moral solution to the problem of the itch. Love comes into it too, of course, but in Europe we tend to see marital love as an eternity which encompasses hate and also indifference: when we promise to love we really mean that we promise to honor a contract. Americans, seeming to take marriage with not enough seriousness, are really taking love and sex with too much.
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Boys are found everywhere-on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.
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It demands great spiritual resilience not to hate the hater whose foot is on your neck, and an even greater miracle of perception and charity not to teach your child to hate.
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Hatreds are the cinders of affection.
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I do not mind lying, but I hate inaccuracy.
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I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity.
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At one time or another I have insulted everybody, and I am proud of that. Folks, let me sum it up for you: I think religion is bad, and drugs are good. I think America causes cancer, longevity is less important than fun and young people should be discouraged from voting. I think stereotypes are true, abstinence is a pervsion, Bush’s lies are worse than Clinton’s and there is nothing sexy about being old or pregnant. I think 9-11 changed nothing, and if I had known the onset of war would add a hundred points on to Bush’s IQ, I would have started one. I think pornography stops rape, I think AIDS ribbons are stupid, and flag burning makes me feel patriotic. I think death is not the worst thing that can happen. I think people have too much self-esteem, and being drunk is funny. I think children are not innocent, God doesn’t write books, and Jesus wasn’t a republican. I am for mad cow disease, and against suing tobacco companies. I think girls hate each other, no doesn’t always mean no, you have to lie to stay married, women’s sports are boring, and the Olympics are gay. We’ll be on for another six weeks here on ABC…
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Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.
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Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.
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There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university ... a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.
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To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.
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I hate it when people take the things I say and turn them into something sexual. Just because it's funny to them, doesn't mean everyone is going to take it that way. And I don't.
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Charlie Dad, how can you hate The Colonel Stuart Because he puts an addictive chemical in his chicken that makes ya crave it fortnightly, smartass
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Forgive! How many will say, ''forgive,'' and find a sort of absolution in the sound to hate a little longer!
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We find amongst animals, as amongst men, power of feeling pleasure, power of feeling pain; we see them moved by love and by hate; we see them feeling terror and attraction; we recognize in them powers of sensation closely akin to our own, and while we transcend them immensely in intellect, yet in mere passional characteristics our natures and the animals’ are closely allied. We know that when they feel terror, that terror means suffering. We know that when a wound is inflicted, that wound means pain to them. We know that threats bring to them suffering; they have a feeling of shrinking, of fear, of absence of friendly relations, and at once we begin to see that in our relations to the animal kingdom a duty arises which all thoughtful and compassionate minds should recognize—the duty that because we are stronger in mind than the animals, we are or ought to be their guardians and helpers, not their tyrants and oppressors, and we have no right to cause them suffering and terror merely for the gratification of the palate, merely for an added luxury to our own lives.
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I hate science. It denies a man's responsibility for his own deeds, abolishes the brotherhood that springs from God's fatherhood. It is a hectoring, dictating expertise, which makes the least lovable of the Church Fathers seem liberal by contrast. It is far easier for a Hitler or a Stalin to find a mock-scientific excuse for persecution than it was for Dominic to find a mock-Christian one.
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