Quotes About Aggression

Thank God! He went down in front of the bar on the tiled floor. BANG! The fat bastard, he shattered both knees with the weight of him. My hands were in just a little bit of pain, but I was driven on to keep punching his fat head in by the gratifying squeals I was eliciting from him and, broken hands or not, with the coup de grace… I knocked him out.

At first, we both miss a few sharp bursts of wild punches and then, BANG! I catch him with a full swing left hook and he goes down like a ferret down a hole after a rabbit. When that punch landed, I broke my hand, again, and simultaneously broke his jaw. I wonder if that is an entry into the Guinness Book of records?

There was just one cheeky bastard in the club that night and it started World War Three. There was a bloodbath down there, they all got locked up, and the police dogs didn't need feeding for a week after that.

No patience. No skill. No intelligence. Just brute strength. They have to break something. It's the only way they know.

There are four conditions that can either block or distort spiritual messages, making it more difficult to discern whether the message is coming from Spirit or is ego-generated. These are grief, pain, selfpity, and aggression without cause.

In America, they slag each other off at the press conference, then get in the ring and don't do anything.

It doesn't matter who's under the basket, I'm going to try to slam or block the shot.

When the Georgian army started this assault against the sleeping city of Tskhinvali, the Georgian peacekeepers, serving in one contingent with their Russian friends, joined the army and started killing the Russian comrades in arms.

Playing football, I'm getting chills just thinking about it. That first knock of the game, you are going on kickoff, and you are just trying to smack somebody just as hard as you can. That's how I play baseball. I want to hit you.

Just like when I was in the NFL, you've got to find those smaller dudes - and when you get your hands on them, it's bad news - all day.

I'm a lot smaller than most guys, so I have to make up with grittiness and show I can work the hardest, show I'm strong on my skates and show I can push some people around.

Sometimes, people say, 'You need to fight smart.' After a fight gets started I don't know what happens with me. I feel crazy. A lot of times my coach says, 'Calm down. Calm.'

I am going to smash B.J. Flores to bits and be the first man stop him.

Football? Forget it. I didn't have that thing inside me where I wanted to smash against somebody and watch them break. I was too sensitive for that and disliked being that sensitive.

Personally, whichever ball is lose, I will smash that ball.

The only pictures you saw of me when I was playing, I was crashing into a centre forward! Or running down a line to save my team. I'm not gonna be happy, be smiling.

The snake will always bite back.

A long time ago, I had a bird that annoyed me, and the bird had to go. The bird's neck was snapped. I would also snap Conor McGregor's neck in a similar fashion.

In our time the most warlike nations are the most rude and ignorant.

What is it that makes all our quarrels end in death nowadays? Whereas our fathers knew degrees of vengeance we now begin at the end and straightway talk of nothing but killing. What causes that, if not cowardice?

God, but it was fun! It was the way I liked it. No arguing, no talking to the stupid peasants. I just walked into that room with a tommy gun and shot their guts out. They never thought that there were people like me in this country. They figured us all to be soft as horse manure and just as stupid.

All right, you conniving little punks, I'll play ball, but I'm going to make up a lot of rules you never heard of. You think I'm cornered and it'll be a soft touch. Well, you won't be playing with a guy who's a hero. You'll be up against a guy with a mind gone rotten and a lust for killing! That's the way I was and that's the way I like it!

I'd rip her heart and lungs and lights out if she so much as—

The trip here had been rough going—Juliet drove with a focused aggression that made most road-rage incidents seem like brief, contemplative interludes, and she punished the sleek, overpowered sports car as though it had done her some terrible harm—but it didn't seem to have dented her appetite at all.