Kanye West Quotes

One can fall in love and still hate.

You had to hate the Colonel a whole lot to keep from loving him.

When I love most, love is disguised. In hate; and when hate is surprised, in love, then I hate most.

I am astonished, disappointed, pleased with myself. I am distressed, depressed, rapturous. I am all these things at once and cannot add up the sum.

Though love and hatred are as opposites as fire and water, yet do they sometimes subsist in the breast together towards the same person; nay by their very opposition and desire to destroy each other, are they strengthened and increased.

but, he also said it because part of him wanted more of her, this cold woman who was not exactly cold, this rock who was not stone.

Oftentimes we love the thing we hate and vice versa.

I'm completely in love with the world but also terrified of it. It creates some overwhelming feelings. Wanting to battle out that joy and fear is part of my music.

Sometimes you hate villains, but you love that you hate them, and it finds this happy medium where you enjoy the process of loathing them so much that you want them to be there. It's such a weird, twisted thing that our minds do.

Love should be simple, but it's not. Hate should be hard, but it's easy.

Strange how love coexists with hate, how they render eachother mute, how the swilling of them together makes a new and softer, sympathetic thing.

He thought about his people without sentimentality, with a strict closing of his accounts with life, beginning to understand how much he really loved the people he hated most.

And painefull pleasure turnes to pleasing paine.

I have so much hate that it has turned into love.

It is hard for me to imagine that I felt good about behaving like that. I also remember that the smallest gesture of affection would bring a lump to my throat, whether it was directed at me or at someone else. Sometimes all it took was a scene in a movie. This juxtaposition of callousness and extreme sensitivity seemed suspicious even to me.

Alas, how love can trifle with itself!

I hate, and yet must love the thing I hate.

My joy is as painful as my pain.

People always tell me either A. you love him. B. you hate him. My usual answer? C. All of the above.

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

I don’t like you, Park. Sometimes I think I live for you

Isn't joyful or painful this pain in which I rejoice

I'm talking about intellectually and emotionally challenging, but at the same time it's actually not that challenging. So there's this dichotomy.

The human heart is a strange vessel. Love and hatred can exist side by side.

It's the people we love the most who can make us feel the gladdest ... and the maddest! Love and anger are such a puzzle!