He was going to hurt the people he hated, but inside he didn't feel any real sense of satisfaction. He hated them all the more for having made him feel so small, so petty and mean, which was all he felt just then. But it wasn't enough to stop him.

The world perishes not from bandits and fires, but from hatred, hostility, and all these petty squabbles.

no hatred, no bitterness. It was really a people who loved this leader.

Keeping hatred against someone is like helping him to torture you

Hatred is settled anger

His anger took many shapes: sometimes soft and familiar, like a round stone he had caressed for so long that is was perfectly smooth and polished; sometimes it was thin and sharp like a blade that could slice through anything; sometimes it had the form of a star, radiating his hatred in all directions, leaving him numb and empty inside.