It is true that I am a person with black pockets of evil and hatred in my heart. There are underground places inside of me

Forcible ways make not an end of evil, but leave hatred and malice behind them.

Hatred to one another only creates hurt to ourselves.

Hatred is the madness of the heart

The human heart may find here and there a resting-place short of the highest height of affection, but we seldom stop in the steep, downward slope of hatred.

There's very little room for anger. It's all hurt. It's all sadness,