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“Oh, we’ll still hate each other, my dear, we have hated each other too long and too passionately to stop… but my bones will rest easy next to your bones.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Harrow the Ninth

“Such is frequently the fate, and such the stern development, of the feminine characters and person, when the woman has encountered, and lived through, an experience of peculiar severity. If she be all tenderness, she will die. If she survive, the tenderness will either be crushed out of her, or--and the outward semblance is the same--crushed so deeply into her heart that it can never show itself more.”
― Nathanial Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

“It is a curious subject of observation and inquiry, whether hatred and love be not the same thing at bottom. Each, in its utmost development, supposes a high degree of intimacy and heart-knowledge; each renders one individual dependent for the food of his affections and spiritual life upon another; each leaves the passionate lover, or the no-less-passionate hater, forlorn and desolate by the withdrawal of his object. Philosophically considered, therefore, the two passions seem essentially the same, except that one happens to be seen in a celestial radiance and the other in a dusky and lurid glow.”
― Nathanial Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

“Let men tremble to win the hand of a woman, unless they win along with it the utmost passion of her heart!”
― Nathanial Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter