Quoted By:
I'LL POP YOUR GODDAMNED HEADS LIKE OVERRIPE MELONS AND GLORY IN THE SQUELCHING OF YOUR ROTTED BRAINS BETWEEN MY FINGERS, YOU PUTRESCENT MAGGOTS
I HATE YOU, I HATE ALL OF YOUR ILK. I WISH UPON YOU GYPSY CURSES OF GREAT AND TERRIBLE VARIETY AND MAGNITUDE. THE VERY FACT THAT GOD ALLOWS YOU TO DRAW BREATH WISHES ME TO BRING WAR UPON HIM AND SHOVE ALL OF CREATION DOWN HIS THROAT.
HATE. HATE. HATE. HATE. HATE.