Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Malevolence. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Malevolence Quotes And Sayings by 92 Authors including Ralph Chaplin,Dean Koontz,Laken Cane,Marcel Proust,Arundhati Roy for you to enjoy and share.
The minds of men are at last aroused; reason looks out and justifies her own, and malice finds all her work is ruin.
Evil travels the world in anonymity, its presence revealed only by the periodic consequences of its desires ...
The Will to Survive.
The Need for Revenge.
Rage. Rage. Rage
Rune Breathed it In.
Bathed it in, became it.
There is in the sadist - good as he may be, indeed the better he is - a thirst for evil that malefactors cannot satisfy.
Impelled by feelings that were primal yet paradoxically wholly impersonal. Feelings of contempt born of inchoate, unacknowledged fear
civilization's fear of nature, men's fear of women, power's fear of powerlessness. Man's subliminal urge to destroy what he could neither subdue nor deify.
The mystery of Evil and its origin & purposes".
~R. Alan Woods [2012]
But what will not ambition and revenge
Descend to?
To excite opposition and inflame malevolence is the unhappy privilege of courage made arrogant by consciousness of strength.
The scapegoat has always had the mysterious power of unleashing man's ferocious pleasure in torturing, corrupting, and befouling.
Nature soaks every evil with either fear or shame.
Mystery and terror are the bulwarks of tyranny.
Devouring Time and envious Age, all things yield to you; and with lingering death you destroy, step by step, with venomed tooth whatever you attack.
Power takes as ingratitude the writhing of its victims
Human brutes, like other beasts, find snares and poison in the provision of life, and are allured by their appetites to their destruction.
Evil comes to all us men of imagination wearing as its mask all the virtues.
lust, greed, desire, and supremacy;
Men fed upon carnage, and drinking strong drinks, have all an impoisoned and acrid blood which drives them mad in a hundred different ways.
You see it is not enough to merely evade evil. One must seek it out and destroy it.
When anger is repressed by reason of inability to do immediate harm, it retires into the heart in the form of malice and breeds these vices - envy, triumph over the enemy's ill, repulsion of friendly approaches, contempt, slander, derision, personal violence, and injustice. MURDER
It is curious how, from time immemorial, man seems to have associated the idea of evil with beauty, shrunk from it with a sort of ghostly fear, while, at the same time drawn to it by force of its hypnotic attraction.
Men are not gentle, friendly creatures wishing for love, who simply defend themselves if they are attacked, but ... a powerful measure of desire for aggression had to be reckoned as part of their instinctual endowment.
The insane and irrational springs of wickedness in most men ...
This watching through cool intent eyes and delicately adjusting one factor or another till a man's fundamental instinct for self-preservation cracks, is savagery in its most pure, most polished and most highly evolved form.
Over the years I had convinced myself that brutality required motive, but this is a fool's deceit. Cruelty is the motive; religion and politics and resources are simply the cloth man weaves to curtain his desires for violence.
Only one enemy is worse than despair: indifference. In every area of human creativity, indifference is the enemy; indifference of evil is worse than evil, because it is also sterile.
Polite contempt. The barbed and poisonous weapon of the righteous.
Man kills, the things he love the most, sometimes by the virtue of hatred, crime, anger and war and sometimes by dramatizing his activities. But he is not aware that his killings are his own self-image.
Life is a warfare against the malice of others.
Sometimes through that alchemy of quiet malice, by which women can concoct a subtle poison from ordinary trifles;
The working of the mind discover oft
Dark deeds in darkness schemed, before the act.
More hateful still the miscreant who seeks
When caught, to make a virtue of a crime.
Munificent nature follows the methods of the divine and true, and rounds all things to her perfect law. While nations are convulsed with blood and violence, how quietly the grass grows.
No man lives, can live, without having some object in view, and making efforts to attain that object. But when object there is none, and hope is entirely fled, anguish often turns a man into a monster.
Fear is the tool of a man-made devil
Malice drinketh up the greater part of its own poison.
In some way the secret vice exhales its poison; and the evil passion, however cunningly masked, stains through to the surface.
The Gift of Fear.
An intimate enemy, death, capricious and cruel, ultimately invincible.
Calm, gentle, passionless as he appeared, there was yet, we fear, a quiet depth of malice, hitherto latent, but active now, in this unfortunate old man, which led him to imagine a more intimate revenge than any mortal had ever wreaked upon an enemy.
Necessity inspires the fatal thought.
Terror acts powerfully upon the body, through the medium of the mind, and should be employed in the cure of madness.
The hatred that vibrated beneath the surface of my girl's face-- I think Suzanne recognized it. Of course my hand would anticipate the weight of a knife. The particular give of a human body. There was so much to destroy.
Th' unconquerable will,/ And study of revenge, immortal hate,/ And courage never to submit or yield/ And what is else not to be overcome?
Of all mankind's unpleasant habits, sheer and willful cruelty is the most base, the least forgivable and, when carried to its extreme, perhaps the most horrific.
Man is nature, nature man, and all crude and raw, stinking, vicious, evil. And holding that evil lightly because the collective mind refuses to recall the spring of mountains, the vault of seas and, of course, beside that, the puny murder of millions.
Evil fascinates and repels us - it's a terrible beauty that enthralls us the more we stare into it ...
Terror is a passion which always produces delight when it does not press too close.
Each killing steals a bit of humanity until a murderer is nothing more than an animal. A hunger replaces the spirit. A want for what was lost, but as with innocence, the soul can never be replaced. Joy, love, and peace flee such a vessel and in their stead blooms a desire for blood and death.
There exists among the intolerable degraded, the perverse and powerful desire to force into the arena of the actual those fantastic crimes of which they have been accused, achieving their vengeance and their own destruction through making the nightmare real.
There's a reason why anger, fear, and hatred are paths to the dark side: they all spring from a single source - the same source as a certain flavor of love. A dangerously sweet, addictive flavor.
The execution of the deed is sometimes masterfully done, in the most ingenious fashion, yet the control of the individual actions that comprise it, the origin of those actions, is diffuse and is associated with various morbid sensations. Rather like a dream.
The Diabolical sometimes assumes the aspect of the Good, or even embodies itself completely in its form. If this remains concealedfrom me, I am of course defeated, for this Good is more tempting than the genuine Good.
The combative instinct is a savage prompting by which one man's good is found in another's evil.
One of the greatest artifices the devil uses to engage men in vice and debauchery, is to fasten names of contempt on certain virtues, and thus fill weak souls with a foolish fear of passing for scrupulous, should they desire to put them in practice.
The danger, when not seen, has the imperfect vagueness of human thought. The fear grows shadowy; and Imagination, the enemy of men, the father of all terrors, unstimulated, sinks to rest in the dullness of exhausted emotion.
The power of the dark side. The heat of passion and emotion. I can feel it in you, as well. Burning beneath the surface. Burning like your anger. It makes you strong.
Revenge is barren of itself: it is the dreadful food it feeds on; its delight is murder, and its end is despair.
Predator and prey move in silent gestures, on the seductive dance of death, in the shadows cast by the vultures of the night.
Destructive force of hatred is a virus
Violence, and evil, doesn't always come dressed in black, and it doesn't always look like Charles Manson. Nor does it always come to us as obvious and arrogant[ ... ]. Often it comes to us with the simple plea to be reasonable.
Evil, once manfully fronted, ceases to be evil; there is generous battle-hope in place of dead, passive misery; the evil itself has become a kind of good.
Terror and pleasure are linked in us. We are a baldly miswired species, Martie. Terror delights us, both the experience of terror and the dealing out of it to others. We are healthier if we admit to this miswiring and do not struggle to be better than our natures allow.
The seductiveness of war derives in part from its location on this boundary of the human, the inhuman, and the superhuman. It requires us to confront the relationship among the noble, the horrible, and the infinite; the animal, the spiritual, and the divine.
[P]ride has no intrinsic substance, being no more than the name given to the soul devouring itself. When that loathsome perversion of love has borne its fruit, it has another, more meaningful and weightier name. We call it hatred.
Vengeance is a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled.
Aggression, rage and violence are archetypal foundations of manhood.
Evil draws men together.
Love surrounds, softens and tires violence and force.
Terror thrives on the bottomless pit of imagination, and the imagination comes to life with the passage of time. Time is its vintner, the family its furtile field.
Danger doesn't always greet with bared fangs. Sometimes it seduces with a willowy caress, a sigh of pleasure, and then turns carnivorous with whipcrack intensity.
Malice delights to blacken the characters of prominent men.
Horror ... and moral terror ... are your friends.
For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst?
How can such episodes of such savage cruelty happen? The heart of man is an abyss out of which sometimes emerge plots of unspeakable ferocity capable of overturning in an instant the tranquil and productive life of a people.
Blood, pain and an all-surpassing lust for one man settled so deeply into his bones, the need had become part of him. Bottomless, like the touch he craved. Vadim.
Evil draws its power from indecision and concern for what other people think.
Good and evil, as we term them, are not antagonistic; they are ever found hand in hand. Humanity has never achieved a single conquest without the aid of both. Indeed how can she? What adds to moral strength, but a grappling with temptation?
Desire, despair, desire. So many monsters.
It is only the intellect that can be thoroughly and hideously wicked. It can forget everything in the attainment of its ends. The heart recoils; in its retired some drops of childhood's dew still linger, defying manhood's fiery noon.
What is man's chief enemy? Each man is his own.
There is in everything a latent evil peculiar to it.
Hatred - The anger of the weak.
The ultimate evil is the weakness, cowardice, that is one of the constituents of so much human nature. When, rarely, unalloyed nobility does occur, its chances of prevailing are slim. Yet it exists, and its mere existence is reason enough for not wiping the name of mankind off the slate.
There are evil spirits who suddenly fix their abode in man's unguarded breast, causing us to commit devilish deeds, and then, hurrying back to their native hell, leave behind the stings of remorse in the poisoned bosom.
The arrows of malevolence ... however barbed and well pointed, never can reach the most vulnerable part of me; though, whilst I am up as a mark, they will be continually aimed.
Terror made me cruel . . .
There is evil in every human heart, which may remain latent, perhaps, through the whole of life; but circumstances may rouse it to activity.
It was a strange monster, for beneath its exterior it was frightened and sickened by its own violence. It chastised itself for its savagery. And sometimes it had no heart for violence and rebelled against it utterly.
Could it be possible, I thought, that such a thing as the vivisection of men was carried on here? The question shot like lightning across a tumultuous sky; and suddenly the clouded horror of my mind condensed into a vivid realisation of my own danger.
Keep in mind the roots of violence: Lust, envy, anger, avarice, and vengeance ... the taproot ... the killer's ultimate and truest motivation ... is the hatred of truth ... the hatred of truth is a vice. From it comes pride and an enthusiasm for disorder.
It is the suffering of ambivalence: the murderous alternation between bitter resentment and raw-edged nerves, and blissful gratification and tenderness
When chaste people need body or mind to resort to action or thought, they find steel in their muscles or knowledge in their intelligence. Theirs the diabolic vigor or the black magic of will power.
Evil was the most contagious of diseases, so virulent that no herb, surgery, or dream-humor could cure it. One's sense of what was normal, acceptable, became distorted by proximity to wrongness; entire nations had succumbed this way, first to decadence, then collapse.
An unforgiving eye, and a damned disinheriting countenance!
Sometimes fear is wholesome and rational; it is well to swing fear as a mighty battle-axe over men's heads when no other motive will move them.
Our subject is, you see, impelled towards the good by, paradoxically, being impelled towards evil. The intention to act violently is accompanied by strong feelings of physical distress. To counter these the subject has to switch to a diametrically opposed attitude.
Without madness what is man
But a wholesome beast,
Postponed corpse that begets?
He was terrified by the sublime horror of it, for intensity of feeling, carried to this degree, is sublime. ("A Woman's Vengeance")
Deceit and treachery skulk with hatred, but an honest spirit flieth with anger.
Fear is the white lipp'd sire
Of subterfuge and treachery.
The vague torment of ... ambition.