Quotes About Violence

What happened to your face?" she says idly. "Which time?" "The new one." "I got shot.

The third time you commit murder, you change into that extra shirt you brought along, the one that's not covered in blood, and you go out for a drink.

When I'm right behind him I say, "Boo." He freezes and I put the Glock to the back of his head. "I know you want to die by hoodoo like a real warrior magician. I get it. And that's why it's going to happen like this." I shoot him and let him fall on the floor with the dead guards. Fuck him. Fuck magic. Fuck the faction. And double fuck whoever shot me in the chest.

How will you do it?" says Sinclair. "I'll know when I see the setup, but I imagine I'll basically just kill them all and take their stuff. Is that okay with everyone?" Sandoval says, "It's fine with me." "Me too," says Sinclair. Howard just grunts.

Quiet as a baby bunny, I come up behind him and slam his head into the wall.

For eleven years, I've been worked over and abused in ways you can't imagine by things you don't want to know about. I've killed every kind of vile, black-souled, dead-eyed nightmare that ever made you piss your pj's and cry for mommy in the middle of the night. I kill monsters and, if I wanted, I could say a word and burn you to powder from the inside out. I can tear any human you ever met to wet rags with my bare hands.

I only cut off my enemies' heads. I break my friends' hearts.

I know a killer when I see one and he's one cold Charlie Starkweather motherfucker.

Is killing someone always like this?" "Just the first couple of times. After that it's like folding socks. But that's just me." She

That's what Glocks are. High-precision killing machines that scream "Daddy Issues.

Violent behavior exists in one's psychological makeup much deeper than the level that receives information from television or movies.

What . . . what did you do to Marv?' 'He's all right.' Her eyes lowered to Roy's knife hand. He glanced down. His hand was shiny red. 'So I lied,' he said. 'God in heaven! O merciful God!

They'd rather have the killing continue?' 'Certainly. An occasional killing does wonders for business.' 'If the town is that way, it doesn't deserve to live.' 'A perceptive man your father was, naming you Judgement.

In the history of mankind, the fine art of killing one another in a civilized and uniformed manner has been elusive.

He leaped, shrieking, off the bed, and sprang at me, clasping my throat with his horrid hands, bearing me backwards on to the floor; I felt his breath mingle with mine * * * and then God, in His mercy, sent oblivion.

Indeed, the tendency of the Americain iiuud seems to he very strongly against the enforcement of any rule which requires a person to flee when assailed"-even to save human life'' In effect, Niblack held that the duty to retreat was a legal rationale for cowardice and that cowardice was simply un-American.

In late twentieth-century America, this "jurisprudence of lawlessness" is a bit out of (fate. While there is a vigorous victim-rights movement in our nation'' and increasingly strong compassion for the victims of rape,7 the day is long since past when rapists are routinely lynched as in Kernan's time. The killing of the seducer of a virgin is no longer it common occurrence, and unapologetic traducers of women stand in little danger of being shot.

Violence or the threat of violence must never be permitted to influence the actions or judgments of the university community. Once it does, the community, almost by definition, ceases to be a university. It is for this reason that from time immemorial expulsion has been the primary instrument of university discipline.

men with guns stole our future by killing the best of our leaders, again and again—in one single tragic year, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. And day after day, death upon death, they steal our dreams by killing the people we love.

The notion that James Madison wrote the Bill of Rights so that racists and sociopaths and madmen could slaughter innocent men, women, and children with assault weapons or handguns is one of the most contemptible notions that an irresponsible minority has ever crammed down the throats of its potential victims.

He did not have a particularly ruminative or philosophical bent—or at least he didn't think of himself in those terms. Perhaps, working day after day in a world of violence and blood and death, it was impossible not to grow philosophical with the passage of years. Maybe most other homicide cops spent a lot of time contemplating the dark side of human potential; maybe he wasn't the only one; he had no way of knowing; it wasn't the kind of thing most cops talked about.

The natives used to tie their enemies to the tree. The ants would eat them alive.

Righteous indignation is the alibi of mobs and murderers.

I was raised Catholic. I went to church every Sunday with my family, then came home and got beaten up by my old man. He beat God right out of me.