We are nearer loving those who hate us than those who love us more than we wish.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
We may sooner be brought to love them that hate us, than them that love us more than we would have them do.
Love of our neighbour, then, has just the same respect to, is no more distant from, self-love, than hatred of our neighbour, or than love or hatred of anything else.
There are more people who wish to be loved than there are who are willing to love.
Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
In hatred as in love, we grow like the thing we brood upon. What we loathe, we graft into our very soul.
Those whom we can love, we can hate; to others we are indifferent.
We rarely just hate people or love people. Normally, the people we have moments of the most impassioned hate for, it's because we love them so much.
It is easier to love humanity as a whole than to love one's neighbor.
We can do all we wish while we live; afterward, we are less than the meanest.
The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.