Quotes About Gunfire

The Captain's habit of letting off a revolver at real or imaginary cats was a sore trial to his neighbours.

As a kid growing up in Chicago, I've been shot at before. I remember I very calmly went down on the ground. Afterwards, you're like, 'Omigod.' You just don't have time to think.

Remember, for every shot you fire, someone, somewhere, is making money.

Every year when it's Chinese New Year here in New York, there are fireworks going off at all hours. New York mothers calm their frightened children by telling them it's just gunfire.

I live in a neighborhood so bad that you can get shot while getting shot.

Qu'importe si cent mille coups de fusil partent en Afrique! L'Europe ne les entend pas. Louis-Philippe, 1835

The sound of sporadic gunfire echoing through the narrow streets of Dublin sounded to ten-year-old Patrick Murphy like the rolling thunder from a summer storm brewing somewhere in the distance. Patrick peered around

Everyone froze. In real time the whole sequence had probably taken ten seconds. In the slow motion of crisis time it had unreeled in ponderous elegance, and the crystalline immobility that followed was intensified by the lingering smell of gunfire, like an olfactory echo of the big bang.

If today is your typical day in America, 80 of our fellow citizens will die from gunfire. In the last two weeks, more Americans have died from gunfire here at home in the United States than in the entire war in Iraq since it started.

I HEARD BULLETS WHISTLE AND BELIEVE ME, THERE IS SOMETHING CHARMING IN THE SOUND. —LETTER FROM THE TWENTY-TWO-YEAR-OLD GEORGE WASHINGTON DESCRIBING HIS FIRST TASTE OF BATTLE T

At night my father often heard sporadic gunfire mixed in with the sound of dogs howling. If the war came closer, soon there would be only minor difference between shooting a dog and shooting a man.

once more, dully menacing, comes the noise of gunfire, and already from afar, like the bill of a woodpecker, sounds the knock-knocking of a machine gun. We grow calm and are almost glad to hear again the familiar, trusty noises of death.

Vibration due to heavy gunfire or other causes will be felt much less if you do not lie with your head against the wall.

In most Westerns, you know, people are shooting off guns all the time until you don't even notice it anymore.

Some of the men fired their guns into the air for joy.

If Hamilton had shot first, he had wasted his fire, exactly as foretold. And if Burr had fired first, as Pendleton alleged, then Hamilton seems to have squeezed the trigger in a reflexive spasm of agony and shot involuntarily into the trees. In neither scenario did Hamilton aim his gun at Aaron Burr.

shooting did erupt nearby.

Three weapons firing. Long guns. All the same. Distinctive. Flat solid barks, and the crack of fast bullets in the air. NATO rounds out of M16s, if Reacher was a gambling man. All of them so far missing. Understandable. It was a deceptive shot. Two hundred yards, absolutely flat, eye to eye. Except it was absolutely curved, because it was part of a spherical planet. Hence the miscalculation.

All over the world, I think, it is much the same. People want to escape places where there is war and poverty, and not enough water even. Or too much water. And they look at places where there is peace and good government and they think: Why can't I go there? They just want to work and have a roof over their heads and not wake up to the sound of bombs and gunfire. That's all they want.

I did protection work with dogs. I trained dogs how to protect their handlers and owners. We'd teach them bite work, how to search buildings and deal with gunfire and stuff like that. Sometimes I'd be the 'bad guy' that dogs would attack in training.

Evan's head was filled with the sound of water. He thought of the ghost in the grass, her blue dress and bare feet. He thought of the way the doves had flown up into the sky all in a rush, startled by gunfire, and then all he could think was that despite everything that happened, he was alive.

Frank and Joe sprinted toward a crowd of people milling in the town square. They were gathered around an old Civil War mortar that stood on a pedestal. White smoke drifted from the muzzle. "Somebody fired the gun!" Joe cried out. "It must have been an accident," Frank said.

When it came to gunfire Jumper didn't have any more sense than a red ant in a hot skillet.

We didn't have counsellors rushing around every time somebody let off a gun. You just got on with it!