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Tajrish

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Soroosh Shahrivar

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“I hate the Moor: And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets He has done my office: I know not if't be true; But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, Will do as if for surety. He holds me well; The better shall my purpose work on him. Cassio's a proper man: let me see now: To get his place and to plume up my will In double knavery—How, how? Let's see:— After some time, to abuse Othello's ear That he is too familiar with his wife. He hath a person and a smooth dispose To be suspected, framed to make women false. The Moor is of a free and open nature, That thinks men honest that but seem to be so, And will as tenderly be led by the nose As asses are. I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.”

Hate
Book:Othello
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“There is a Ghanaian proverb that I’ve become very fond of over the years: “The ruin of a nation begins in the homes of its people.” In the days leading up to Donald Trump’s inauguration to the highest office of one of the most powerful nations in the world, I’ve been turning this proverb around in my mind over and over again. The post-election day shock that has been echoing in the chambers of my life, my work, my social media circles has been telling. Something deeply private, like the filth in our homes, has been made public, and the shock, particularly among the white, liberal, educated classes – those most likely to survive when the house burns down – is revealing. Either many Americans did not know that the house was in disarray, or they knew but hoped that the disorder wouldn’t get out, be seen, like laundry shoved into a spare cupboard before the guests arrive. Here we are now, our dirty laundry visible and stinking and everywhere.”

HateRacismWhite SupremacyWhitesDonald TrumpPresidents
Author:Yaa Gyasi
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“Yet she could feel a hard, tight knot of anger and hate forming within her as she walked along. She decided to walk home, hoping that the anger would evaporate on the way. She moved in long, swift strides. There was a hard sound to her heels clicking against the sidewalk and she tried to make it louder. Hard, hard, hard. That was the only way to be--so hard that nothing, the street, the house, the people--nothing would ever be able to touch her.”

HateAngerHardness
Book:The Street
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“Did Nesta say why she won't train?' 'Because she hates me.' Feyre snorted. 'Cassian, Nesta does not hate you. Believe me.' 'She sure as shit acts like it.' Feyre shook her head. 'No, she doesn't.' Her words were pained enough that he frowned. 'She doesn't hate you, either.' he said quietly. Feyre shrugged. The gesture made his chest ache. 'For a while, I thought she didn't. But now I don't know.' 'I don't understand why you two can't just...' He struggled for the right word. 'Get along? Be civil? Smile at each other?' Feyre's laugh was hollow. 'It's always been that way.' 'Why?' 'I have no idea. I mean, it was always that way with us, and our mother. She only had an interest in Nesta. She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn't bother to hide it from us.' Resentment and long-held pain laced every word. That a mother would do such a thing to her children... 'But when we fell into poverty, when I started hunting, it got worse. Our mother was gone, and our father wasn't exactly present. He wasn't fully there. So it was me and Nesta, always at each other's throats.' Feyre rubbed her face. 'I'm too exhausted to go over every detail. It's all just a tangled mess.' Cassian refrained from observing that both sisters seemed to need each other- that Nesta perhaps needed Feyre more than she realised. And from mentioning that this mess between the two females hurt him more than he could express. Feyre sighed, 'That's my long way of saying that if Nesta hated you... I know what it looks like, and she doesn't hate you.' 'She might after what I said to her tonight.”

HateHatredSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronCassianNesta ArcheronNestaEmotional PainA Court Of Silver Flames
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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