Quotes About Violence

Well, if you wake up intending to murder someone at two o'clock, you hardly think what you're going to feed the corpse for dinner.

Most people are quite dense. They like little white houses with big stained-glass churches and prefer to do their killing with looks and words behind one another's backs. He paused. Welcome to my house. No secrets allowed. Here we all do our killing with guns and axes and knives. It's more bloody than what most people are accustomed to, yes, but it's far less brutal.

The world didn't like to look at the dark underside very often. But that didn't change the ugliness; it only ensured that those who perpetuated the ugliness were left alone to kill and maim and rape.

BoneMan still had his back to him and was turning with a stunned stare. The head of the sledgehammer landed on the side of the man's head with a sickening crack.

And then Alvin Finch, aka BoneMan, aka Satan, toppled to his left. He bounced off the post in the middle of the room, struck the concrete next to the hammer's head with a loud slap, and lay still.

His hand flashed, slapping her cheek with an open palm before she saw it moving. The force of his blow snapped her head sideways. Tears sprang to her eyes.

He'd broken the man's bone. And now he should break his fingers and both of his arms and both of his legs as instructed by the drawings. He should do it now, while the man was out. He already had the man's right arm wrapped in towels, bridging the gap between two blocks of wood. He should break it. How would BoneMan know? He hadn't seen any closed- circuit camera.

Because the real wolf comes to kill. To steal. To destroy.

The world is violent and mercurial--it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love--love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.

If anything, the people who moved to Jonestown should be remembered as noble idealists. They wanted to create a better, more equitable, society. They wanted their kids to be free of violence and racism. They rejected sexist gender roles. They believed in a dream. How terribly they were betrayed.

It was 1970, and America was scarred by racial violence. Civil rights leaders had been gunned down in the streets, and communities across the nation were smarting from race riots. My parents' own state, Indiana, had once been a stronghold of the Ku Klux Klan, and was still a haven for backwater bigots.

When the majority of jokes made at the expense of trans people center on "men wearing dresses" or "men who want their penises cut off" that is not transphobia - it is trans-misogyny. When the majority of violence and sexual assaults omitted against trans people is directed at trans women, that is not transphobia - it is trans-misogyny.

Disarm, disarm. The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonour, nor violence indicate possession.

Violence is Black children going to school for 12 years and receiving 6 years worth of education.

It's so lovely that even in prison, men who aren't touchy-feely have to be stopped from beating up rapists -- not just child molesters, but rapists of grown women. It's a shame that educated middle-class leftwing men can't take feminism on board so effectively.

I have experienced jealousy, possessiveness, verbal abuse and violence from men, but I have also experienced jealousy, possessiveness, verbal abuse and violence from women, usually when I failed to respond to their advances.

God, please," I scream, "help, Mom, he is going to kill me!" And she is standing just where she was three minutes ago. Three minutes ago my life was different. Three minutes ago I could have made it out of here intact, but now Ã¢â'¬Â¦

Anyone who shoots a real gun at you when drunk and angry is simply not husband material, regardless of his taste in literature.

Like the muscles knew from the beginning that it would end with this, this inevitable falling apart... It's sad, but a relief as well to know that two things so closely bound together can separate with so little violence, leaving smooth surfaces instead of bloody shreds.

But I don't think there has ever been anything written on the nature of violent man as deep and as thorough as Shakespeare's Titus. I think it puts all modern movies and modern exploitations of violence to shame.

Las amputaciones violentas son malas, después te duele el muñón toda la vida.

Ma a chi piace la violenza fine a sé stessa? Piaceva a Trotsky, piaceva al Che? Solo i nazisti (che per me costituiscono una specie di categoria mentale al di fuori di ogni periodo storico e di ogni localizzazione nazionale, dagli assiri alle SS) trovano nella violenza una specie di riscatto della debolezza [...].

hubiera querido poder estar también dentro del hormiguero para ver cómo las hormigas tiraban del gusano metiéndole las pinzas en los ojos y en la boca y tirando con todas sus fuerzas hasta meterlo del todo, hasta llevárselo a las profundidades y matarlo y comérselo.

Violence is unnecessary and costly. Peace is the only way.