The yoke a man creates for himself by wrong-doing will breed hate in the kindliest nature.
I shall never love anybody. I can't love people. I hate them.' 'The time will come, dear, the time will come.
She hates everything that is not what she longs for.
The intensest form of hatred is that rooted in fear.
Hatred is like fire, it makes even light rubbish deadly.
I can't abide to see men throw away their tools i' that way, the minute the clock begins to strike, as if they took no pleasure i' their work, and was afraid o' doing a stroke too much.... I hate to see a man's arms drop down as if he was shot, before the clock's fairly struck, just as if he'd never a bit o' pride and delight in's work. The very grindstone 'ull go on turning a bit after you loose it.
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