Quotes About Violence

War is a crime. Ask the infantry and ask the dead. —ERNEST HEMINGWAY

Dulce bellum inexpertis. ("War is delightful to those who have no experience of it.") —ERASMUS

Fish had already told both Wertham and Detective King that, in addition to shoving needles inside his body, he liked to soak pieces of cotton in alcohol, cram them up his rectum, and set fire to them.

publicly raped by a specially trained giraffe, after which she was torn apart by wild animals.

Asked at one point why he had slain so many of his neighbors, Unruh replied: "I'd have killed a thousand if I'd had bullets enough."[55]

In other words, serial killers are, by and large, sexual psychopaths of a particularly depraved variety—deviants who can only achieve orgasmic release by making other people die.

There's just some kind of men you have to shoot before you can say hidy to 'em. Even then, they ain't worth the bullet it takes to shoot 'em.

You damn morphodite, I'll kill you!

Havin' a gun around's an invitation to somebody to shoot you.

He said I was the only girl he would ever love, then he neglected me. I beat him up, but it did no good.

They said if he'd had two good arms he'd have made it, he was moving that fast. Seventeen bullet holes in him. They didn't have to shoot him that much.

He told me havin' a gun around's an invitation to somebody to shoot you.

tener un arma equivale a invitar al otro a que te dispare. —Esto

A mí me dijo que tener un arma equivale a invitar al otro a que te dispare

Seventeen bullet holes in him.

Jean Louise, when a man's looking down the double barrel of a shotgun, he picks up the first weapon he can find to defend himself, be it a stone or a stick of stovewood or a citizens' council.

You'll get your head shot off, Jem.

I kicked the man swiftly. Barefooted, I was surprised to see him fall back in real pain. I intended to kick his shin, but aimed too high.

Jean Louise, when a man's looking down the double barrel of a shotgun, he picks up the first weapon he can find to defend himself, be it a stone or a stick of stove wood, or a citizens' council.

Two other slave women peer around a sheet, apparently hung for modesty's sake, in a childlike display of curiosity. This innocuous tableau could hardly differ more from the gruesome reality in which each surgical scene was a violent struggle between the slaves and physicians and each woman's body was a bloodied battleground.

All Sam Peckinpah ever did in his movies was show that getting hit on the chin doesn't sound like [makes a small popping noise]. When one grown man hits another grown man in the face, it splatters like an overripe tomato. And it's not fun getting killed. It's bloody and gory and altogether unpleasant. That's all Sam Peckinpah ever did.

Skop screamed when they all looked at him, shouted it was all a trick, and had to be clubbed unconscious when he attacked the bowmen. Understanding had come to Pyrrus.

If you can't vote them—shoot them.

Hatred is like a long, dark shadow. Not even the person it falls upon knows where it comes from, in most cases. It is like a two-edged sword. When you cut the other person, you cut yourself. The more violently you hack at the other person, the more violently you hack at yourself. It can often be fatal. But it is not easy to dispose of. Please be careful, Mr.Okada. It is very dangerous. Once it has taken root in your heart, hatred is the most difficult think in the world to shake off.