She thought of being broken—not by a man she admired, but by a man she loathed.
He lived to loathe the streets of the city he had dreamed of rebuilding.
And I thought that it didn’t know the things I loathed, it could never know.
ůman’s office with your drawing, and you’ll curse yourself for taking so much space of his air with your body, and you’ll try to squeeze yourself out of his sight, so that he won’t see you, but only hear your voice begging him, pleading, your voice licking his knees; you’ll loathe yourself for it, but you won’t care, if only he’d let you put up that building, you won’t care, you’ll want to rip your insides open to show him, because if he saw what’s there he’d have to let you put it up.
There are no more uses of "loathe" in the book.
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I make New Year’s resolutions every year and then loathe myself for breaking them.