“How does fear become so powerful? We can’t see it. We can’t touch it, yet it gets its claws in us and begins to control us. Sigh. I hate feeling afraid, and I hate, hate, HATE feeling out of control.”

“This means nothing,” she said.“Less than nothing,” he lied.“I’ll hate myself later.”“I hate myself now.”

“I don't hate you.. I just don't like that you exist”

“Her hand fluttered over her heart. "Did you just say the word shopping without flinching?""I did. So?""So, that's gotta be a record. It's a worldwide fact men hate shopping.""How can I hate it when I've never done it?"Her lips curled into a slow, beautiful smile. "If you weren't already an angel, I'd dub you a saint. Poor guy. You have no idea what you're in for.”

“I have to know""What? What do you have to know?""What you taste like." Another step.What happens when you know?" she rasped."I stop wondering. Stop dreaming of you every night, thinking of you every minute of every day." Another step closer. "I think you wonder, too. I think you dream of me and wonder. You hate yourself for it. You hate me for it, but you cannot stop.”

“Hate. Huh. He'd never hated himself. If anything, he'd always liked himself a little too much. Once, a human female had even accused him of picturing his own face while he climaxed. He hadn't denied it, either, and next time he'd slept with her, he'd made sure to scream, "Strider" at the pivotal moment." --Strider, keeper of the demon of Defeat--”

“I hate this Gladiator shit," Sabin muttered."Yes, well, where do you think the Romans learned from?"Sabin sputtered for a minute. "You're trying to tell me Harpies are responsible for this? That the Romans learned from them?""I must try only if you are lacking intelligence.”