There is a thin, albeit, fractured line perhaps, between love and hate. At least thats what philosophers, poets and sages have preached.

The ones we loved the most, we hate the worst and find that while we think the anger is all for them, it is in fact ourselves with whom the greatest contempt burns.

Those who weve admired and adored, in whom the mere presence of, weve thrived and blossomed, like a tree under the summer sun, whos voice was like water to our souls, just as easily become as hard as the cold winter freeze.

There is love and there is hate. Hate will never lead to love, and love will never lead to hate, but love is the only deliverance from hate.

A man can utter a thousand words, but if he has no love, he merely vomits an incomprehensible diatribe, a loud and senseless noise.

LionQueen - 2008

Chapter 3 - Under the Mask