Marilyn Manson Quotes

No one can hate you with more intensity than someone who used to love you.

Lucy and I would love furiously and fight furiously.

It's either love or hate with me. People really can hate me.

I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

There's a thin line between love and hate. Maybe you're confusing your emotions.

Believe it or not--it takes a lot of love to hate you like this.

I equal parts loved him and could not stand him. I couldn't wake him to share in my distress.

Stronger than lover's love is lover's hate. Incurable, in each, the wounds they make.

Hatred is a disguised form of love. You can only hate someone whom you really wish to love, because if you were totally indifferent to that person, you could not even get up enough energy to hate him.

Hot hate is twin brother to hot love.

You have to love somebody that much to also hate them that much, too. (191)

you have to love something before you can hate it.

We can always hate that which we loved, and with a fire as great as our love once was.

There is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.

Oh, I have loved him too much to feel no hate for him.

Many & most moments go by with us hardly aware of their passage. But love & hate & fear cause time to snag you, to drag you down like a spider's web holding fast to a doomed fly's wings. And when you're caught like that you're aware of every moment & movement & nuance.

How can someone have the power to shatter you to dust--and also to make you feel so whole?

Love is a wave building to a crescendo. Ride if you will, ride it with me.

I wonder why love is so often equated with joy when it is everything else as well. Devastation, balm, obsession, granting and receiving excessive value, and losing it again. It is recognition, often of what you are not but might be. It sears and it heals. It is beyond pity and above law. It can seem like truth.

Love is the burning point of life, and since all life is sorrowful, so is love. The stronger the love, the more the pain. Love itself is pain, you might say -the pain of being truly alive.

If jealousy was the vindaloo of love, I'd imagined her tongue burning, and such a fire forcing her to spill her truth.

she thought it was the misfortune of poetry, to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoyed it completely; and that the strong feelings which alone could estimate it truly, were the very feelings which ought to taste it but sparingly.

Great love, you believe, carries the seeds of great sorrow. Well, perhaps you are right. Perhaps the wise spurn one to remain safe from the other, but I should rather choose to have my eyes burnt in their sockets than to have been born without.

Love's a loaded gun and it shoots to kill.

The language of love letters is the same as suicide notes.