“Unwilling friend, let not your spite abate;
Help me with scorn, and strengthen me with hate.”
"To My Enemy", p. 2
Ballads and Songs (1894)
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John Davidson 9
Scottish poet 1857–1909Related quotes
“Hate me
Do it and do it again
Waste me
Rape me, my friend.”
Rape Me.
Song lyrics, In Utero (1993)
“Let them hate me, so that they will but fear me.”
Oderint, dum metuant.
Quoted in The Tyrants : 2500 Years of Absolute Power and Corruption (2006), p. 27 London: Quercus Publishing, ISBN 1905204965 , these derive from a statement by Suetonius, included below, in which he states these words were often used by Caligula, but imply that he was quoting the tragedian Accius.
Disputed
As quoted in Life of Pius X (1918) by Francis Alice Forbes, p. 35
Variant translation: My hope is in Christ, who strengthens the weakest by His Divine help. I can do all in Him who strengthens me. His Power is infinite, and if I lean on him, it will be mine. His Wisdom is infinite, and if I look to Him counsel, I shall not be deceived. His Goodness is infinite, and if my trust is stayed in Him, I shall not be abandoned.
Context: I shall spare myself neither care nor labour nor vigils for the salvation of souls. My hope is in Christ, who strengthens the weakest by His divine help; I can do all in Him who strengthened me! His power is infinite, and if I lean on Him it will be mine; His wisdom is infinite, and if I look to Him for counsel I shall not be deceived; His goodness is infinite, and if my trust is stayed on Him I shall not be abandoned. Hope unites me to my God and Him to me. Although I know I am not sufficient for the burden, my strength is in Him. For the salvation of others I must bear weariness, face dangers, suffer offences, confront storms, fight against evil. He is my Hope.
“I wanted you to thank you for being my friend and letting me play a part in your story.”
Source: The Last Vampire
“Let's be friends based on mutual hate.”
Source: Scott Pilgrim, Volume 3: Scott Pilgrim & The Infinite Sadness
http://www.nme.com/news/music/coldplay-129-1241495 source
The Poet (1830)
Context: The poet in a golden clime was born,
With golden stars above;
Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn,
The love of love.
He saw thro' life and death, thro' good and ill,
He saw thro' his own soul.
The marvel of the everlasting will,
An open scroll,
Before him lay; with echoing feet he threaded
The secretest walks of fame:
The viewless arrows of his thoughts were headed
And wing'd with flame,
Like Indian reeds blown from his silver tongue...
