Sleep, those little slices of death; Oh how I loathe them.
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Sleep, those little slices of death, how I loathe them.
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People named John and Mary never divorce. For better or for worse, in madness and in saneness, they seem bound together for eternity by their rudimentary nomenclature. They may loathe and despise one another, quarrel, weep, and commit mayhem, but they are not free to divorce. Tom, Dick, and Harry can go to Reno on a whim, but nothing short of death can separate John and Mary.
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I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven't got the guts to bite people themselves.
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I nauseate walking; 'tis a country diversion; I loathe the country
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I loathe the expression 'What makes him tick.' It is the American mind, looking for simple and singular solution, that uses the foolish expression. A person not only ticks, he also chimes and strikes the hour, falls and breaks and has to be put together again, and sometimes stops like an electric clock in a thunderstorm.
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I loathe the expression What makes him tick. It is the American mind, looking for simple and singular solution, that uses the foolish expression. A person not only ticks, he also chimes and strikes the hour, falls and breaks and has to be put together again, and sometimes stops like an electric clock in a thunderstorm.
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Sleep. Those little slices of Death. How I loathe them.
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Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores appeared round about 1894. With their jangling keys, nasty suits, revolting beards, moustaches and tinted spectacles, estate agents roam the land causing perturbation and despair. If you try and kill them, you're put in prison: if you try and talk to them, you vomit. There's only one thing worse than an estate agent but at least that can be safely lanced, drained and surgically dressed. Estate agents. Love them or loathe them, you'd be mad not to loathe them.
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Friendship should be a private pleasure, not a public boast. I loathe those braggarts who are forever trying to invest themselves with importance by calling important people by their first names in or out of print. Such first-naming for effect makes me cringe.
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We should be eternally vigilant against attempts to check the expression of opinions that we loathe.
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Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death....
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What I have absolutely no sympathy with is the legislator, the man who seeks, for his own profit, to exploit the weaknesses of those who are unable to help themselves and then to fasten some moral superscription upon it. This I loathe so much that I cannot conceivably explain how much it is.
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Romans 12:9:
Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.
(NIV)
[Let your] love be sincere (a real thing); hate what is evil [loathe all ungodliness, turn in horror from wickedness], but hold fast to that which is good.
(AMP)
Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good.
(KJV)
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Ah, no, far be from me a thought which I loathe like poison.
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Sleep... Those slices of death.... How I loathe them.
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Nature does not loathe virtue it is unaware of its existence.
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Romans 7:15:
I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.
(NIV)
For I do not understand my own actions [I am baffled, bewildered]. I do not practice or accomplish what I wish, but I do the very thing that I loathe [which my moral instinct condemns].
(AMP)
For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.
(KJV)
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