Quotes About Violence

For their most innocent words were acts of violence to which we of the campus were hypersensitive though we endured them not.

His name was Clifton and he was black and they shot him. Isn't that enough to tell? Isn't it all you need to know?

He was a cop. A good citizen. But this cop had an itching finger and an eager ear for a word that rhymed with 'trigger,' and when Clifton fell he had found it. The Police Special spoke its lines and the rhyme was completed. Just look around you. Look at what he made, look inside you and feel his awful power. It was perfectly natural. The blood ran like blood in a comic-book killing, on a comic-book street in a comic-book town on a comic-book day in a comic-book world.

I knew that they were about to attack the man and I was both afraid and angry, repelled and fascinated. I both wanted it and feared the consequences, was outraged and angered at what I saw and yet surged with fear; not for the man or of the consequences of an attack, but of what the sight of violence might release in me. And beneath it all there boiled up all the shock-absorbing phrases that I had learned all my life. I seemed to totter on the edge of a great dark hole.

After such knowledge, and given the persistence of racial violence and the unavailability of legal protection, I asked myself, what else was there to sustain our will to persevere but laughter?

Thus despite the bland assertions of sociologists, "high visibility" actually rendered one un -visible—whether at high noon in Macy's window or illuminated by flaming torches and flashbulbs while undergoing the ritual sacrifice that was dedicated to the ideal of white supremacy. After such knowledge, and given the persistence of racial violence and the unavailability of legal protection, I asked myself, what else was there to sustain our will to persevere but laughter?

I don't know if you have a soul. I only know that you are men of flesh and blood; and that blood will spill and flesh grow cold. I do not know if all cops are poets, but I know that all cops carry guns with triggers. and I know too how we are labeled.

Peace cannot be achieved through violence, it can only be attained through understanding.

These Norsemen are excellent persons in the main, with good sense, steadiness, wise speech, and prompt action. But they have a singular turn for homicide; their chief end of man is to murder or to be murdered;

God promises something that has never yet been true of the earthly Jerusalem: "I will make peace your governor and righteousness your ruler. No longer will violence be heard in your land, nor ruin or destruction within your borders, but you will call your walls Salvation and your gates Praise" (vv. 17-18).

Having lost this truth, what are we left with? Pornography and the cruel degradation of men, women, and children; death in the womb in the name of personal rights; the breakdown of the family for myriad reasons; the profanation of sex in our entertainment industry; violence in unprecedented proportions. One can only weep for the bleeding and the loss. In losing the high value that God has placed on the body, we are in a free fall, at the mercy of greed, cruelty, and lust.

Melt all the guns, I thought, break the knives, burn the guillotines-and the malicious will still write letters that kill.

I guess I'm everything they say I am, all right. I haven't any friends. That's supposed to prove I'm abnormal. But everyone I know is either shouting or dancing around like wild or beating up one another. Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays?

Sometimes I'm ancient. I'm afraid of children my own age. They kill each other. Did it always use to be that way?

Long before you knew what death was you were wishing it on someone else. When you were two years old you were shooting people with toy guns.

War is a bad thing, but peace can be a living horror

I'm afraid of children my own age. They kill each other. Did it always use to be that way? My uncle says no. Six of my friends have been shot in the last year alone. Ten of them died in car wrecks. I'm afraid of them and they don't like me because I'm afraid. My uncle says his grandfather remembered when children didn't kill each other. But that was a long time ago when they had things different.

He slapped her face with amazing objectivity and repeated the question.

Once the bomb release was yanked, it was finished. Now, a full three seconds, all of the time in history, before the bombs struck, the enemy ships themselves were gone half around the visible world, like bullets in which a savage islander might not believe because they were invisible; yet the heart is suddenly shattered, the body falls in separate motions, and the blood is astonished to be freed on the air; the brain squanders its few precious memories and, puzzled, dies.

And then he was a shrieking blaze, a jumping, sprawling gibbering manikin, no longer human or known, all writhing flame on the lawn as Montag shot one continuous pulse of liquid fire on him.

Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays? You sound so very old Sometimes I'm ancient. I'm afraid of children my own age. They kill each other. Did it always used to be that way?

Somos miles de milones, es excesivo. Nadie conoce a nadie. Llegan unos desconocidos y te violan, llegan unos desconocidos y te desgarran el corazón. Llegan unos desconocidos y se te llevan la sangre.

Suddenly, he needed the gun again, to touch the shape of killing, like touching that wild old man.

Right now I've got an awful feeling I want to smash and kill things.