love-hate

Human history is the ancient story of the umbilical conflict between a lone individual versus a cabalistic society. A love-hate relationship defines our personal history with society, where the suppression of individuality for the sake of the collective good battles the notion that the purpose of society is to enable each person to flourish. A conspicuous feature of cultural development involves societies teaching children the sublimation of unacceptable impulses or idealizations, consciously to transform their inappropriate instinctual impulses into socially acceptable actions or behavior. The paradox rest in the concept that in order for any person to flourish they must preserve the spiritual texture of themselves, a process that requires the individual to resist societal restraint, push off against the community, and reject the walls of traditionalism that seek to pen us in. The climatic defining event in a person__ life represents the liberation of the self from crippling conformism, staunchly rebuffing capitulating to the whimsy of the super ego of society.

Now he was nothing to her, just a lesson in time, a wicked boy-man, incapable of wealth or prestige.

They may not know each other to say it, but it was never hidden. How much ever they hated each other, fate ties them together.

The end of love looks like the beginning of war

It's better to hate someone in the beginning rather than end up hating someone after loving.

For me, writing is a love-hate relationship.

I have a love-hate relationship with white silk.

I have a love-hate relationship with performing.

I have had a love-hate relationship with my body.

You don__ deserve my image in your head. You don__ deserve my memories in your chest.

I saw you, I loved you, but now I miss you, and I still can't speak because I know you hate me.

She could be a fire hazard. Maybe we should remove her from the ship before she spontaneously combusts.

I love having to attend the one class that is being taught by a professor who feels that their class is the only class being taught at the University and gives nothing but busy work.

Good bye AEHS. You suck. I hate you. And yet... Somehow I'll miss you too.

I hate and love. And why, perhaps you__l ask.I don__ know: but I feel, and I__ tormented.

The more he smiled, the more I wanted to hate him, and yet it was the very thing that made hating him impossible.

If you can just stop loving her then you never really loved her at all. Love doesn't work that way. If you ever truly love someone, then it never goes away. It can become something else. There are all different sorts of love. It can even become hate- a thin line and all that- and, really, hate is just another kind of caring.