Hates Everyone Equally/Quotes

Everything About Fiction You Never Wanted to Know.


I am hard, but I am fair! There is no racial bigotry here! I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops, or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless!

Karaba doesn't like children, she despises women, she hates men and she wants to do them all the harm she can.

The Wise Old Man Of The Mountain, Kirikou and The Sorceress

You see, the great secret, Eliza, is not a question of good manners or bad manners, or any particular sort of manners, but having the same manner for all human souls. The question is not whether I treat you rudely, but whether you've ever heard me treat anyone else better.

Professor Henry Higgins, My Fair Lady

Gonzales: There is one question, Inspector Callahan: Why do they call you "Dirty Harry"?
De Georgio: Ah that's one thing about our Harry, doesn't play any favorites! Harry hates everybody: Limeys, Micks, Hebes, Fat Dagos, Niggers, Honkies, Chinks, you name it.
Gonzales: How does he feel about Mexicans?
De Georgio: Ask him.
Harry Callahan: Especially Spics.

I dunno why that sawed-off runt wanted me on the jury...guess he figured I'd be impartial since I hate all races, colors and creeds equally.

I don't like dwarfs, Littlebottom, but then I don't like trolls or humans much either.

Just for the record, I insult everything. You're not special.

— Helmut, Bob and George

It was all very confusing to Clevinger. There were many strange things taking place, but the strangest of all, to Clevinger, was the hatred, the brutal, uncloaked, inexorable hatred of the members of the Action Board, glazing their unforgiving expressions with a hard, vindictive surface, glowing in their narrowed eyes malignantly like inextinguishable coals. Clevinger was stunned to discover it. They would have lynched him if they could. They were three grown men and he was a boy, and they hated him and wished him dead. They had hated him before he came, hated him while he was there, hated him after he left, carried their hatred for him away malignantly like some pampered treasure after they separated from each other and went to their solitude.
Yossarian had done his best to warn him the night before. ‘You haven’t got a chance, kid,’ he told him glumly. ‘They hate Jews.’
‘But I’m not Jewish,’ answered Clevinger.
‘It will make no difference,’ Yossarian promised, and Yossarian was right. ‘They’re after everybody.’

Each hate is like a color
In the rainbow of my mind,
But look what you discover
With the shades of hate combined!”

And like a prism lighted
(But going in reverse)
The hatreds all united
When they met at the obverse.

“Like the bird is to the feather,
Like the forest to the tree,
When the hatreds come together
It’s called misanthropy!”