“[Harriet] hated math. She hated math with every bone in her body. She spent so much time hating it that she never had time to do it.”

“He was her enemy, and she hated him because she could not hate him enough.”

“[She] was made up of skin and bones and hate and crazy, and hate and crazy don't weigh anything.”

“As Lacy waited for her turn to speak on Peter's behalf, she thought back to the first time she realized she could hate her own child.”

“She hated to lie but she hated arguments even more.”

“She hated that she was still so desperate for a glimpse of him, but it had been this way for years.”

“She [Chantal] did not understand him [Fiodor]. She never could and never would understand him, being as invulnerable in her truthfulness as he in his falseness. And yet, she hated him unconsciously with a jealous hatred — for what other name, alas, could be given to that revolt of her pure conscience, so well armed and, at the same time, so defenceless? She hated him instinctively as though he already possessed the incomparable secret with which to menace her, to menace God Himself.”

“She hates everything that is not what she longs for.”

“I hated to leave her and I hated to
be near her,
because she made me remember what I wanted most to forget.”

“Now she hates me. I have taught her that, at least.”