Quotes About Savagery

Bloody brutes!

Awful things men were, savage, cruel, underneath their civilization.

To one outraged commentator, the mad "scramble of 15,000 people" to the site of such "appalling and atrocious" crimes was a sad commentary on the moral state of supposedly civilized man—"galling, incontrovertible proof that the race is still but a little removed from a stage of actual savagery."[

Users of clichés frequently have more sinister intentions beyond laziness and conventional thinking. Relabelling events often entails subtle changes of meaning. War produces many euphemisms, downplaying or giving verbal respectability to savagery and slaughter.

The Americans? These are people who invaded Texas and California with ethnic savagery. What do they have against us?" *

And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.

Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Kill the pig! Bash him in!

He knelt among the shadows and felt his isolation bitterly. They were savages it was true; but they were human and the ambushing fears of the deep night were coming on. Ralph moaned faintly. Tired though he was, he could not relax and fall into a well of sleep for fear of the tribe. Lying there in the darkness, he knew he was an outcast. 'Cos I had some sense.

They understood only too well the liberation into savagery that the concealing paint brought.

They were black and iridescent green and without number; and in front of Simon, the Lord of the Flies hung on his stick and grinned. At last Simon gave up and looked back; saw the white teeth and dim eyes, the blood—and his gaze was held by that ancient, inescapable recognition. In Simon's right temple, a pulse began to beat on the brain.

And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.

with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.

Acting like a crowd of kids/ the mask was a thin thing on its own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-consciousness/ He was safe from shame or self-consciousness behind the mask of his paint and could look at each of them in return/ They understood only too well the liberation into savagery that the concealing paint brought"?Lord of the Flies?

Piggy fell forty feet and landed on his back across the square red rock in the sea. His head opened and stuff came out and turned red. Piggy's arm sand legs twitched a bit, like a pig's after it has been killed. Then the sea breathed again in along, slow sigh, the water boiled white and pink over the rock; and when it went, sucking back again, the body of Piggy was gone.

Art and savagery, aesthetics and violence. Were they contradictory or symbiotic?

Biographers who admire Marx and seek to cover for him will want to ignore his poetry among his corpus of writings. They should nonetheless bristle at what they see in Marx's poetry. They will encounter what Paul Johnson discerned: "Savagery is a characteristic note of his verse, together with the intense pessimism of the human condition, hatred, a fascination with corruption and violence, suicide pacts and pacts with the devil."82

There were hundreds of worlds like it, most of them littered with the usual Elder Culture ruins, the usual secrets waiting to be unlocked. This one had been colonised by an atechnic cult sixty years ago. Maybe they were living the life of pastoral utopianism they'd planned; maybe they had descended into savagery and were roasting and eating prisoners of war captured in tribal wars fought with stone-tipped spears. No one knew nor cared.

A tortured note of desperate fatalism runs through his poetry, as in remote landscapes he celebrates the savagery, the howling wilderness.

I've since discovered that many human beings need no supernatural mentoring to commit acts of savagery; some people are devils in their own right, their telltale horns having grown inward to facilitate their disguise.

People scare me more than anything, for I know too well the savagery of which humankind is capable.

Our easy bones groaned, our flesh baked on one side and shuddered on the other; and each man thought bitterly about primitive simplicity and decadence, and how he had been ruined by civilization and forced by circumstances to drink and smoke and sit up all night inspecting those perfectly arbitrary cards until he was broken-winded as a trout on a rock and had no use for the doctrines of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and could no longer afford a savagery whether noble or not;

All our progress of luxury and knowledge . . . we have not been lifted by as much as an inch above the level of the darkest ages . . . The last hundred years have wrought no change in the passions, the cruelties, and the barbarous impulses of mankind. There is no change from the savagery of the Middle Ages. We enter a new century equipped with every wonderful device of science and art but the pirate, the savage, and the tyrant still survives.

gun is an impersonal weapon and kills cleanly and decently at a distance. Killing with the bare hands at close quarters savours too much of pure savagery for most people.

When I was a child, I first thought that these shades might be malevolent spirits who fostered evil in those people around whom they swarmed. I've since discovered that many human beings need no supernatural mentoring to commit acts of savagery; some people are devils in their own right, their telltale horns having grown inward to facilitate their disguise.