Quotes About Provocation

Look over there," I said. "Two women fucking a polar bear." "Please," he said. "Don't tell me those things. Not now.

The trick is to control them without any provocation, but outlaws are very easily provoked.

I stared at him, keeping a firm grip on the radio. Not me, I said finally. I'd be happy to ram a goddamn 440-volt cattle prod into that tub with you right now, but not this radio. It would blast you right through the wall-stone-dead in ten seconds. I laughed. Shit, they'd make me explain it-drag me down to some rotten coroner's inquest and grill me about...yes...the exact details. I don't need that. Bullshit! he screamed. Just tell them I wanted to get HIGHER!

For reasons that were never made clear, I blew out my back windows with five blasts of a 12-gauge shotgun, followed moments later by six rounds from a .44 Magnum. It was a prolonged outburst of heavy firing, drunken laughter and crashing glass. Yet the neighbors reacted with total silence.

If I followed my better instincts right now, I would put this typewriter in the Volvo and drive to the home of the nearest politician -- any politician -- and hurl the goddamn machine through his front window ... flush the bugger out with an act of lunatic violence then soak him down with mace and run him naked down Main Street in Aspen with a bell around his neck and black lumps all over his body from the jolts of a high powered Ball Buster cattle prod.

I suppose it has gone out of fashion and they are out spraying slogans on walls, sniffing glue or trying to get laid.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Thing is, we could discuss it out loud in front of the gentlemen over there, or you could get off my case and make a pleasant farewell. That is to say, fuck off.

The rabbis paled. I'd managed to terrify holy men. Maybe I could beat up a nun for an encore.

Kate's Speciality: Killing things, with much bloodshed. Talking trash, infuriating authority. Driving Beast Lord crazy.

Why the rifle? Everybody knows you can't shoot." Who were these everybodies and would they like to stand in front of me, preferably within ten feet, so I could discuss this issue in greater detail.

Ready to put your claws where your mouth is, or are you going to cringe behind the big boys and yip all day? His eyes flared yellow Is that a challenge? Yes it is.

Curran's eyes went gold. His voice dropped into a rough growl. If you're going to shoot, make sure to empty the clip, because after you're done, I'll shove that gun up your ass sideways. Blue Jacket blinked. Can you even do that? I asked. Let's find out. Curran stared at the thug. Well? Shoot, so we can start this experiment.

Some men got excited by white lace and a translucent negligee. My love muffin got excited by a woman dressed to murder. There was probably something deeply twisted about that. Lucky for me, negligees were never my thing.

When in doubt, poke the beehive with a stick to see if anything interesting flies out. I clapped my hands. 'I had no idea Pit teams had such pretty cheerleaders. Can you do it again, but with more spirit this time?

You make me want to stab you. I have that effect on many people. How is it you're still alive? I'm hard to kill.

I finally realized the source of your mutual attraction, Saiman said, his voice dry. You both think violence is foreplay.

The first rule of etiquette a boy learns when he's about to enter society is that civility is due to all women. No provocation, no matter how unjust and rudely delivered, can validate a man who fails to treat a woman with anything less than utmost courtesy. The boys hung on his every word. He glanced in her direction. I have met some incredibly unpleasant women, and I have never failed in this duty. But I must admit: your sister may prove my undoing.

Punch any of mine, and I'll break your arm off and beat you to death with it.

This is blasphemy!" Odalon declared in the same way Gerard Butler had once roared "This is Sparta." Sadly, Odalon had nobody to kick into a bottomless hole for emphasis, so he settled for looking extremely put out.

It was one of those idiotic things that could've been resolved in a split second. Tara had no right to touch Raphael, and once she did he had every right to punch her. She should've left it at that, and now she was dead because she didn't.

It was his eyes. When you looked into them, you saw chained violence baring teeth and claws back at you.

Behind him Kaldar nudged Urow's youngest son. Bet you he lasts at least thirty seconds. Um... Gaston looked at him. No he won't. Bet me something. I don't have anything. Kaldar grimaced. Pick up that rock. Gaston swiped the rock off the ground. Now you have a rock. I bet this five bucks against your rock. Gaston grinned. Deal.

Flirt with me now, you sonovabitch! See if I'm impressed.