The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows. They are polluted off'rings, more abhorred! Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

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[F]ew things loves better Than to abhor himself-- . . .

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And now how abhorred in my imagination it is!

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Boils and plagues Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd Further than seen, . . .

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. . . make the abhorrent eye Roll back and close.

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The self-same thing they will abhor One way, and long another for.

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