Quotes About Violence

The last time I threw a punch was in primary school, and that was probably a slap.

The older I get, the more I can't stand violence and have a hard time with seeing people die in horrific ways. It gets harder and harder to watch and deal with that stuff.

There was a time when beheadings were in the public mind because people around the world were getting their heads cut off for various reasons.

We are getting used to levels of violence, we are getting used to seeing these horrific things going on all the time. I think it's tough. It's rough.

Texas is not a civilized place. Texans shoot one another a lot. They also knife, razor, and stomp one another to death with some frequency. And they fight in bars all the time.

Historically, when a leader has deployed his own military against civilians, it's never been good. There's never been a time where it's ended well.

Ours is a terrible religion. The fleets of the world could swim in spacious comfort in the innocent blood it has spilt.

The joy of killing! the joy of seeing killing done - these are traits of the human race at large.

It was a dreadful thing to see. Humans beings can be awful cruel to one another.

A feud is this way: A man has a quarrel with another man, and kills him; then that other man's brother kills him; then the other brothers, on both sides, goes for one another; then the cousins chip in -- and by and by everybody's killed off, and there ain't no more feud. But it's kind of slow, and takes a long time.

After a long time and many questions, Satan said, The spider kills the fly, and eats it; the bird kills the spider and eats it; the wildcat kills the goose; the -- well, they all kill each other. It is murder all along the line. Here are countless multitudes of creatures, and they all kill, kill, kill, they are all murderers. And they are not to blame, Divine One?

But they (the infantry) had no use for boys of twelve and thirteen, and before I had a chance in another war, the desire to kill people to whom I had not been introduced had passed away.

There is not an acre of ground on the globe that is in possession of its rightful owner, or that has not been taken away from owner after owner, cycle afer cycle, by force and bloodshed.

For he did not seem to know any way to do a person a kindness but by killing him.

And always we had wars, and more wars, and still other wars--all over Europe, all over the world. Sometimes in the private interest of royal families, Satan said, sometimes to crush a weak nation; but never a war started by the aggressor for any clean purpose--there is no such war in the history of the race.

Good gracious! Anybody hurt?" "No'm. Killed a nigger." "Well, it's lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt.

I got some of their jabber out of a book. S'pose a man was to come to you and say Polly-voo-franzy—what would you think? I wouldn' think nuffn; I'd take en bust him over de head—dat

The idea of you lynching anybody! It's amusing. The idea of you thinking you had pluck enough to lynch a man! Because you're brave enough to tar and feather poor friendless cast-out women that come along here, did that make you think you had grit enough to lay your hands on a man? Why, a man's safe in the hands of ten thousand of your kind - as long as it's day-time and you're not behind him.

Two or three centuries from now it will be recognized that all the competent killers are Christians; then the pagan world will go to school to the Christian—not to acquire his religion, but his guns. The Turk and the Chinaman will buy those to kill missionaries and converts with.

Oh, they have just a bully time—take ships and burn them, and get the money and bury it in awful places in their island where there's ghosts and things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships—make 'em walk a plank.

Slade had to kill several men—some say three, others say four, and others six—but the world was the richer for their loss.

looking into the muzzle of Slade's pistol. "And the next instant," added my informant, impressively, "he was one of the deadest men that ever lived.

the BTK Killer (which to me sounds more like something you order from a drive-thru window).

But it feels like the hinges must have finally failed, whatever was trying to get in, at last succeeding, instantly tearing into me, and though I'm still conscious, slashing my throat with those long fingers and ripping my ribs out one by one with its brutal jaws.