Quotes About Violence

I hit him on the back of the neck. He submerged. Help. I've drowned the Beast Lord.

I'm going to kick you in the head when I get home. Repeatedly.

I finally realized the source of your mutual attraction, Saiman said, his voice dry. You both think violence is foreplay.

Punch any of mine, and I'll break your arm off and beat you to death with it.

Besides, if I'd decided to pull Carver's spine out of his body, I would've done it already." "Can you actually do that?" Curran frowned. "I don't know. I mean theoretically if you broke the spine above the pelvis, you could, but then there are ribs . . . I'll have to try it sometime.

They say a hundred-and-thirty-pound woman has no chance against an athletic two-hundred-pound man. That's a lie. You just have to make the decision to hurt him and then do it.

He'd laugh in my face, then I'd slice him to ribbons and then he'd break my neck

The last time Assistant Principal Parker called, a girl in the school's locker room had accused Julie of being a whore during the two years she'd spent on the street. My kid took exception to that and decided to communicate that by applying a chair to the offending party's head. I'd told her to go for the gut next time- it left less evidence.

The door swung open and Kate walked in. Her jeans and T-shirt were splattered with blood and she was carrying a severed vampire head. The T-shirt has a smiley face on it.

Derek, if a boy wanted to take away a girl's power by having sex with her, what would you think about it? I'd break something. His leg. Maybe his arm. He squeezed the wire tighter. Probably wouldn't kill him unless he wanted to make an issue of it.

Yes, bad. Look at Daddy ripping the bad man to pieces. Go Daddy!

An evil light sparked in his eyes. You could always go for Plan B. Pound everyone to a bloody pulp until they shut up and cooperate? Exactly. -Curran and Kate

The woman stared at the ruined body. Blood dripped from her arm. A fine spray of red covered her face --must've been cast off when she slammed down the cans. She wiped her face with her left forearm and kicked the stalker's corpse with her sneakered foot. Don't mess with Texas.

Curran, you can't bite his face off." "Yes, I can," Curran said in a monster voice. "You shouldn't." "He stole George's car. And he shot me." "He missed." "He missed, because I'm fast and I moved out of the way. If I bite his head off, he won't shoot me again.

If he insults you, I'll cut his head off and you can drink his blood.

Sure, I didn't weigh a hundred and ten pounds, but my narrow waist let me bend and I could break a man's neck with my kick.

Bleed him and I'll skewer you like a stuck pig, I said through clenched teeth. No, you will try. You'll wave your sword around and talk a lot of shit and then back off at the last minute. And then I'll snap your neck and his.

He gave an impression of coiled power, a contained violence that if released, would explode with terrifying intensity.

It was one of those idiotic things that could've been resolved in a split second. Tara had no right to touch Raphael, and once she did he had every right to punch her. She should've left it at that, and now she was dead because she didn't.

People around me died, usually in horrible and bloody ways.

The idiot had shot their own dog. That's what happened when the destructive potential of a man's weapons exceeded his intelligence.

How do we get out of this circle? I asked him. We kill him, he said. Good. Let's kill him and go home. I thought you'd never ask.

He strained to say something else. I leaned toward him. He focused on me. "Rape," he promised. "Many, many times. Until you bleed . . ." "I'm so flattered.

It was his eyes. When you looked into them, you saw chained violence baring teeth and claws back at you.