A Quote by Horace

I hate the irreverent rabble and keep them far from me. — © Horace
I hate the irreverent rabble and keep them far from me.

Quote Author

And again, we're kind of trying to be in that place, that's just so absurd and irreverent and hysterical and it's something that at our company we're kind of, we're so irreverent about everything, we're sort of irreverent about the establishment, we're irreverent about civilization, we're irreverent about philosophy, we're irreverent about religion.
It doesn't seem that long ago to me that the word 'irreverent' seemed affixed to my name. 'Irreverent newcomer.' I went from irreverent to venerable in what seems to me like the blink of an eye.
I catch as much hell from the hard-core conservative people as I do the far left. The only difference is that the far right don't bring the hate to the table that the far left does. And that's my party. They just deal in so much hate. I mean the far left, not the Democrats, the far left really deal in hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.
I abhor the profane rabble and keep them at a distance.
Whom do I hate most among the rabble of today? The socialist rabble, the chandala apostles, who undermine the instinct, the pleasure, the worker's sense of satisfaction with his small existence-who make him envious, who teach him revenge. The source of wrong is never unequal rights but the claim of "equal" rights.
I never desired to please the rabble. What pleased them, I did not learn; and what I knew was far removed from their understanding.
I love being irreverent. But I hate being irrelevant. I love being irreverent because at the end of the day your actions belie your intentions.
Without discipline a body of men becomes rabble. Rabble dies, either on the battlefield or in a POW camp.
I will tell you what to hate. Hate hypocrisy, hate cant, hate indolence, oppression, injustice; hate Pharisaism; hate them as Christ hated them with a deep, living, godlike hatred.
I really don't care what the other team thinks. I don't care what their fans think. If they hate me, great. Hate me. We'll just keep winning, I'll keep scoring and we'll move on.
I can't take it anymore. The waiting. The wanting. Something inside me snaps. I hate myself. I hate that I have to deal with this. I hate my life. And I hate how I can't count on anyone to be completely there when I need them, exactly the way I need them to be.
RABBLE, n. In a republic, those who exercise a supreme authority tempered by fraudulent elections. The rabble is like the sacred Simurgh, of Arabian fable - omnipotent on condition that it do nothing.
I hate the uncultivated crowd and keep them at a distance. Favour me by your tongues (keep silence). [Lat., Odi profanum vulgus et arceo. Favete linguis.]
Love me or hate me, it's one or the other. Always has been. Hate my game, my swagger. Hate my fadeaway, my hunger. Hate that I'm a veteran. A champion. Hate that. Hate it with all your heart. And hate that I'm loved, for the exact same reasons.
I wish that I was dead. Oh, they'll be sorry then. I hate them and I'll kill myself tomorrow. I want to die. I hate them, hate them. Hate.
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.
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