Hate is the wrath of the weak.

Poets are people who can still see the world through the eyes of children.

Suffering is nothing. It's all a matter of preventing those you love from suffering.

Hate is the wrath of the weak.

Children are like grown people; the experience of others is never of any use to them.

My imagination doesn't require anything more of the book than to provide a framework within which it can wander.

Hatred - The anger of the weak.