As for literary criticism in general: I have long felt that any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel or a play or a poem is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae or a banana split.

We do not need loathsome radical favoritism in this world. We need to prevent and cease the opposition of violent intolerance.

Sleep, those little slices of death - how I loathe them.

In meditation we discover our inherent restlessness. Sometimes we get up and leave. Sometimes we sit there but our bodies wiggle and squirm and our minds go far away. This can be so uncomfortable that we feel's it's impossible to stay. Yet this feeling can teach us not just about ourselves but what it is to be human?we really don't want to stay with the nakedness of our present experience. It goes against the grain to stay present. These are the times when only gentleness and a sense of humor can give us the strength to settle down?so whenever we wander off, we gently encourage ourselves to "stay" and settle down. Are we experiencing restlessness? Stay! Are fear and loathing out of control? Stay! Aching knees and throbbing back? Stay! What's for lunch? Stay! I can't stand this another minute! Stay!

We follow the codes not because they bring gain, but because we loathe the people we would otherwise become.

I revere the word of God for I love its poetic force. I loathe the word of God for I hate its cruelty. The love is a difficult love for it must incessantly separate the luminosity of the words and the violent verbal subjugation by a complacent God. The hatred is a difficult hatred for how can you allow yourself to hate words that are part of the melody of life in this part of the world? Words that taught us early on what reverence is?

If there is a God he's a great loathsome spider in the darkness.

Knowledge subverts love: in proportion as we penetrate our secrets, we come to loathe our kind, precisely because they resemble us.

It's not all bad. Heightened self-consciousness, apartness, an inability to join in, physical shame and self-loathing-they are not all bad. Those devils have been my angels. Without them I would never have disappeared into language, literature, the mind, laughter and all the mad intensities that made and unmade me.

No matter how you care to define it, I do not identify with the local group. Planet, species, race, nation, state, religion, party, union, club, association, neighborhood improvement committee; I have no interest in any of it. I love and treasure individuals as I meet them, I loathe and despise the groups they identify with and belong to.

Life," said Marvin dolefully, "loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it.

The trick. . .is to find the balance between the bright colors of humor and the serious issues of identity, self-loathing, and the possibility for intimacy and love when it seems no longer possible or, sadder yet, no longer necessary.

But what he hadn't expected was that when everyone feared him and flattered him, Lan WangJi scolded him right in his face; when everyone spurned him and loathed him, Lan WangJi stood by his side.

In the consciousness of the truth he has perceived man now sees everywhere only the awfulness or the absurdity of existence and loathing seizes him.

Travel is very subjective. What one person loves another loathes. I would say a private paradise in the Caribbean. If you want culture and class I would say Tuscany. If you want exotic I would say Bangkok Thailand.

Travel is very subjective. What one person loves another loathes.

In all of our society but especially in Hollywood there is an obsession with perfection that can lead to self-loathing and neurosis and all that kind of stuff.

I think the deafness affects me more than I realise I think it makes me more tired. I loathe parties. I attend smile and leave.

In the mean time I worship God laying every wrong action under an interdict which I endeavour to respect and I loathe the wicked without doing them any injury.

I feel an intense intimacy with those who have this loathing interest in me. Further than this I know what they mean I sympathize with them I understand them. There should be a name (as poetic as love) for this relationship between loather and loathed it is of the closest and more full of passion than incest.

Machines are worshipped because they are beautiful and valued because they confer power they are hated because they are hideous and loathed because they impose slavery.

My loathings are simple: stupidity oppression crime cruelty soft music.

Music is so therapeutic for me that if I can't get it out I start feeling bad about myself - a lot of self-loathing.

It is from a weakness and smallness of mind that men are opinionated and we are very loath to believe what we are not able to comprehend.