Hate Novels & Stories

What he felt for them all that moment was hate and one thing about when he hated was the fact changed his entire make-up and how he would see them from henceforth, hate made him reckless till gradually it suffocated every bit of emotions he had for them. He never let himself hate for that reason because once he did he didn't know how to control it. But right now, he could say he hated something. He hated the Eastern Colony and the fact they were trying to make him feel like a fool. Hatred fucking bur

"I'd rather you not refer to this as helping...I don't help others." "Because it's against the bad guy code? Or because you hate people overall?" He sighed, face tightening and his eyes becoming pensive as if reminiscing. "I don't hate people. I hate their ways...deceit, envy, betrayal..." His jaw clenched at the last word. "I hate it all." "Why?"

he murmurs, his voice low and cutting, “but don’t lie to yourself. Hate’s just fear dressed up with a little fire.” My fists clench above my head, but I don’t dare move. His palm feels like fire against my skin, his presence suffocating, a storm I can’t outrun. “Do you know what hate does to me?” he continues, his tone taking on a dangerous edge. “It fucking fuels me. Makes me sharper, crueler and gets my cock hard as fuck. Hate is a slippery slope. One minute, you hate me. The next? You’re fucking obsessed.”

The opposite of teaching hate is teaching love and appreciation - not tolerance or blindness. If hate is ice, then love is warmth and tolerance is a cold neutral. If you want to melt ice, be warm. If you want to combat hate then love with a passion. Instead of "blindness" show others how to see beauty in whom they fear. Show them how to make the loving bonds of true and lasting friendship. If you haven't prayed your Salah please pray this book can wait but your salah can't

I screeched, lounging forward to shove the stranger named Mason but my mother held me back. “Oh please, do you really think I’m equally happy to be seeing your face right now? I also don’t ever want to see you again, you’re not only childish and dumb, you’re also very fucking rude!” He shot back at me, both of us doing nothing to mask our dislike and utter hatred for each other. “Oh, if I’m rude, then what are you? You arrogant swine. Why are you here, huh? No one wants you here!” I knew I shouldn’t be hauling insults at him, especially not in a place like this, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

I don't hate; it's too stressful an emotion and would take more out of me than the recipient. But what I feel for Ricci and now his friends is something much darker. There is no emotion attached, so no chance of mercy or compassion for anyone involved; hate is an emotion, a bad one, but one, nonetheless. What I feel could be best described as inhuman, animalistic, primal. It's crossed all boundaries between the light and the dark.

he mutters, pouting. My heart aches. But even in his anger, he’s still so angelic, he's still my little Attie. “Baby, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” He looks up at me, eyes sharp. “Why do you hate him, Mommy?” My breath catches. Hate? Where did he learn that word? “Where… where did you hear that?” I stammer. “You treat him the opposite of love,” he says, glaring. “Which is hate.”

“YOU are being unreasonable.” “STOP BOSSING ME AROUND!” She yelled. “I’M NOT BOSSING YOU AROUND. I DO NOT WANT YOU TO SUFFER ALONE, PENELOPE! NO! I’M NOT ALLOWING IT.” He hit the steering wheel. He was breathing rapidly.

I couldn't be happier. “I'm sorry for how our last conversation went, I really shouldn't have blamed you for the shortcomings.’’ I apologized sincerely. “It's okay. I understood how you felt.” She also seemed happy to finally hear from me. “It has been pretty rough for me, that's why I haven't been communicating with you. The Alpha is being so cruel to me, does he hate me now because of his rejection?” “Rejection does not cause hate. Only in situations where one party is willing but eventually got rejected, the rejected party exhibits the hate.’’ She explained

Her heels were clicking on the floor and it annoyed Jonathan so much as he wasn’t used to that sound and more importantly, he was trying to focus on the newspaper. With a determined resolve, Hazel locked eyes with him. “I will only believe that my husband is dead when I see his lifeless body in the mortuary. Until then, all this talk of a levirate contract and marrying you is ultimate bullshit!” Her voice wavered slightly, but her conviction was unwavering and she was snarling at him.