Quotes About Aggression

I hate people who say, "Oh, I'm addicted to working out". I just want to punch those people in the face.

No atomic physicist has to worry, people will always want to kill other people on a mass scale. Sure, he's got the fridge full of sausages and spring water.

The impulse to eschew the unpleasant leads to avoidance; avoidance leads to aversion; aversion leads to fear; fear leads to hatred; hatred leads to aggression. Unwittingly, the oh-so-natural instinct to avoid the unpleasant becomes the root of hatred. It leads to war: war within, war without. Entertaining aversion is a slippery slope.

Running toward and throwing objects at an approaching bear were two of the most effective techniques. Other effective methods were yelling, clapping hands, and banging pots together. Combinations of these mildly aggressive acts seemed to be particularly effective. The farther a bear got into camp, and especially if it was already eating people's food, the harder it was to chase away.

Whereas children might engage in more direct forms of bullying such as name calling and physical violence, adult bullies are more likely to use indirect methods that are harder to identify and, most importantly, to show evidence for. Commonly, workplace bullies use micro-management in such a way that to an observer it simply looks

My first sparring session with him saw him bullying me around the ring, so I thought fuck this, and when he came back in close, I threw the boxing code of conduct out of the window and hit him with a cracking right hand in to the balls! That sapped the energy out of him and that was the end of that. In the end, I could take anything he threw at me and then I'd come back with mine, which he didn't like and people would comment on how much I'd 'come on'.

In the last round I was so wiped-out that for the first time in my life I tried to get disqualified. He was throwing punches non-stop and he was dangerous with those shots and becoming a little bit too cute for my liking. I backed to the ropes and catapulted off them and nutted him.

Everyone in the place seen me nut him apart from the ref, it caught him on the blind side. I tried to nut him on the eyebrow so it would split open, but I got him on the forehead. The crowd turned right against me, but I made it to the last bell and lost on a unanimous decision.

I was also in Glenochil Prison in 1992 when Hammy was stabbed five times in the chest and belly off another man called Fudge, but give Hammy his dues, he never tried to jail bait his attacker up. Fudge never got any more time to his sentence for the frenzied attack on Hammy. This man has also had pit bulls and rottweiler dogs set on him and guess what, he beat the dogs.

I moved in distance and as the fight unfolded, I landed a big, destructive, hard-hitting right hand (The Muckspreader) smack on the button and he collapsed in a (muck) heap on the deck, out for the count. His mates looked at me and never said a word. The big fella was asleep and wasn't moving… I had flattened him.

Violence was second nature to the psychopathic and ultra-violent Stephen Moyle, who was already a seasoned street fighter, after having half his face torn off in a street fight with three other men.

After a couple of weeks in Polmont, I started to become more assertive and began arguing with older, bigger boys. I loved it. This is where my ugly side would make some scary and unpredictable appearances. Even to this day, I can go from a happy-go-lucky cunt to the devil on acid.

I was so incensed that I was oblivious to all as I ran over broken glass, holding a five-foot weightlifting bar. The glass tore the soles of my feet as I chased the gang's car up the street. I remember breathing heavily as I cursed failing to catch my enemies.

My motto is: hit first, ask questions later....

I did not recognise the man at the door and, in split-second time, I pointed the barrel of the fearsome looking weapon to the downstairs living room window, blew that out and then levelled it at the bedroom window above, and blew that out. The owner of the property literally shit his pants and slammed the door.

As they carried him out, one of his mates came back in and said to me, 'Do it too me, go on, fucking try it with me.' I obliged and I flattened him as well and he was laid out in the ambulance next to Big John heading for the casualty department.

The only kicks and highs people got then were the ones dished out in nightclub fights.

I'd only gone and whacked his front teeth out and they'd stuck in my hand, I still have the scar to this very day. A few weeks later, I got banged up for it; he never went to the police until two weeks later. Somebody had put him wise about getting compensation from the Criminal Injuries Board. Anyway, the CPS (Crown Prosecution Service) kicked it in to touch as a 'no go' case.

We were called to a pub that had our doormen on, we were told there was fighting. It was he, Big George, but he'd already left. We went in and the bouncers were smashed to bits, shirts ripped off, teeth knocked out, claret and glass everywhere. Single-handedly, George had demolished them, as if they were made out of cardboard.

I have beaten people into the ground and the more they cry the more of a beating I gave them. If they don't cry, I come off, if they cry then I will beat them and beat them and beat them.

Usually with a couple of these shots the word 'Goodnight' would show up on their forehead, but he was still on his feet, but backed up and then I battered him with a flurry of combinations: right, left, right, right, right and a sweet right hand and he went down. For good measure, I booted him in the head and turned around and walked fast in to the pub away from the scene.

As one of the motorbikes came towards me, I let a big heavy right go, and knocked the rider's head clean off his shoulders! Fucking hell, the guy's head was still in his helmet and it was clattering all the way down the road.

He was very cock sure of himself. He came at me and threw a big slow right, but he was so slow that he had telegraphed it to me and I'm ready for it and block it. I put a couple of big jabs on him and he went down like the Titanic, maybe quicker.

He caught me neat, right on the fucking face and I took one step back and thought, you're not getting away with that you bastard! I was punching the piss out of him, he kept going down, but I didn't kick him, he'd had enough. I didn't put the boot in to a man older than myself. But this confrontation was out of the blue, out of the fucking blue. That's what I had to face.