She became fascinated by the statue of Edith Cavell and would stand at the base of it in the freezing cold of a December morning, looking up: -Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness for anyone-. Sometimes those words made her cry. The tears would come uncontrollably and they would not stop. And in those moments Anna found forgiveness and it made her free. But they were only moments. Forgiveness is a hard thing to hang on to. . Miranda Emmerson
The man of knowledge must be able not only to love his enemies but also to hate his friends.
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Friedrich Nietzsche
Everything with me is either worship and passion or pity and understanding. I hate rarely, though when I hate, I hate murderously. For example now, I hate the bank and everything connected with it. I also hate Dutch paintings, penis-sucking, parties, and cold rainy weather....
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Unknown
Isn't it funny. I'm enjoying my hatred so much more than i ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you, changes its mind. But hatred, now, that's something you can use. Sculpt. Wield. It's hard, or soft, however you need...
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Janet Fitch
Men build too many walls and not enough bridges.
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Joseph Fort Newton
...the opposite of love is not hate -- it's apathy. It's not giving a damn. If somebody hates me, they must "feel" something ... or they couldn't possibly hate. Therefore, there's some way in which I can get to them.
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Leo Buscaglia
More Quotes By Miranda Emmerson
But life. It rushes by and then you think you'll see people... You think you'll do things and have time for this and time for that... And there is never time. This is what I have learned, Anna, I have learned that there is never...
How do you explain to a child who likes everyone in the world that adult life consists to a great extent of cutting people away?
She became fascinated by the statue of Edith Cavell and would stand at the base of it in the freezing cold of a December morning, looking up: -Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness for anyone-. Sometimes those words made her...
I feel like I could disappear because I'm not real to other people.
My uncle read me Omar Khayyam. In Arabic. Not Turkish or even English. I tried so hard to understand it. I would ask him what it all meant but he always said the pleasure was in the finding out... the discovery. He said you can...
