Quotes About Violence

Every authentic poem contributes to the labour of poetry... to bring together what life has separated or violence has torn apart.

Rapists do not deserve to live." And

For five weeks, the Associated Press had provided the world with lurid coverage of the attack on Virgil Earp, which was labeled Cow Boy revenge for what was being called "the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral" because it took too long to set the type for "Gunfight in the Vacant Lot behind Camillus Fly's Photography Studio Near Fremont Street.

I would not have voted for the man," Doc admitted, "but this—" He lifted a fine-boned hand toward the street, where small groups of Cow Boys were now tearing down Allen on horseback, shooting at the sky and racing beyond the city limits before the police could do anything about the ruckus. "This is indecent.

On the afternoon of October 26, 1881, the Earps were incorruptible, intrepid lawmen bravely marching off to protect the city from gun-toting outlaws. The next morning, they were cold-blooded killers who'd murdered three men on a public street because of some kind of personal feud between Doc Holliday and Ike Clanton.

Put ordinary shitheads in impressive uniforms, give them guns and permission to use them, they'll shoot anyone who threatens their illusions

1 Silence Where language and naming are power, silence is oppression, is violence. -ADRIENNE

loading your brain with subliminal messages.... How loathsome to turn a sadistic murder into entertainment [in the newspaper] -- and yet how hard not to read about it. What dark comedy to realize that you are scanning for descriptions of torture as you disapprove. Which of course only makes it more entertaining. But naturally I was hoping they'd report something grisly, you say to your friends, who chuckle lighthearted acknowledgment of hypocrisy.

That conniving little slut," Pokey said. "I'd like to rip her arms off and beat her to death with 'em.

For Ben, watching the bad guys blow up buildings and try to shoot down airliners just never got old.

No real man would take something as sweet as his penis and turn it into a club.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, isn't war the most demented activity ever invented?

Why don't suicide bombers smuggle bombs in their rectums?

Double sentencing wasn't a new idea, but rather the latest variation on the theme. Before that, a murderer might be hanged and then drawn and quartered, wherein horses were tied to his limbs and spurred off in four directions, the resultant "quarters" being impaled on spikes and publicly displayed, as a colorful reminder to the citizenry of the ill-advisedness of crime.

A technique favored by Mussolini's squadristi thugs. Political foes were force-fed large quantities of castor oil—up to a quart, according to The Straight Dope. Who does that? Moreover, why? To kill by dehydration? To humiliate? I could find no satisfying answer, not even from the International Castor Oil Association, which, despite large quantities of emails, had no comment.

But now misery has come home, and men appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other's blood.

When one creature is murdered, another is immediately deprived of life in a slow torturing manner; then the executioners, their hands yet reeking with the blood of innocence, believe that they have done a great deed.

Cómo odio las farsas e ironías de este mundo! En cuanto una criatura es asesinada, a otra se le priva de la vida de forma lenta y tortuosa. Y, los verdugos, con manos aún teñidas de sangre inocente, creen haber llevado a cabo una gran obra.

I supposed there were circumstances in which it was correct, even praiseworthy, for a girl to bash a man's head in with a lamp while he was kissing her...

men were encouraged to punish any woman they regarded as unruly. If a woman tried to escape from a cruel or violent husband, she was considered an outlaw, and her husband had the legal right to imprison her.

When one creature is murdered, another is immediately deprived of life in a slow torturing manner; then the executioners, their hands yet reeking with the blood of innocence, believe that they have done a great deed. They call this retribution. Hateful name! When that word is pronounced, I know greater and more horrid punishments are going to be inflicted than the gloomiest tyrant has ever invented to satiate his utmost revenge.

They hanged my mother. I watched her body swing from the lower branches of a silk cotton tree. She had committed a crime for which there is no pardon. She had struck a white man. She had not killed him, however. In her clumsy rage she had only managed to gash his shoulder

Who laughs in front of a gun? Only those of our species.

Our children can play together…while my boy kills yours.