Quotes About Violence

After all, I'm already a murderer. No one really expects a murderer to stop killing.

She thought of the grainy video of him she had seen, head tipped back, so covered in blood that she hadn't remembered his features, hadn't remembered him as looking like anything but a monster, laughing, endlessly laughing. Mad as a dog. Mad as a god.

Now, if anyone in the Refectory bothers you, you can chop off their head, Aaron thought cheerfully.

Someone tried to kill me. Again. Poison. Again. Someone else tried to recruit me into a scheme where we would kill my sister and Cardan, so I could rule in their place. When I told them no, they tried to kill me. With a knife, that time.' 'A poisoned knife?' He laughed. 'No, just a regular one. But it hurt.

I'm not afraid," Zacharov says, still looking at Anton. "It takes guts to kill a man with your hands. You don't have the balls.

I have secrets aplenty. There are so many things you don't know, daughter of Madoc. And I think you crave a little violence yourself.

if you're thinking of calling the guards, know that the only reason I have for not stabbing you in the throat is the fear that you might die loudly.' The Ghost gives me a small, wry smile. 'I would, you know. Very loudly. Just to spite you.

I am going to kill you," Tamara said very calmly. "I am going to sort your guts into piles.

For a moment, I stare at him stupidly. I am reeling from the kiss, from the swiftness of the violence. I am not yet used to Oak's ability to kill without hesitation and then chagrined about it, as though he did something in slightly poor taste. Spilled a rare vintage of wine, perhaps. Mismatched his trousers to his shirt.

He reaches toward me, as though he's going to run his fingers over the bruises. I bring up the crossbow, and he thinks better of it.

He'd like to make you believe he's our leader, but it's more than Nicasia likes power, I like dramatics, and Valerian likes violence. Cardan can provide us with all three, or at least excuses for all three.' 'Dramatics?' I echo. 'I like for things to happen, for stories to unfold. And if I can't find a good enough story, I make one.' He looks every inch the trickster in that moment.

In that moment, she sprang on him and tore him to pieces.

But she did run. She was almost around the corner when his blade struck her in the back. She crumpled to the linoleum, falling arms knocking magnets off the fridge.

Then Grima Mog is there on her stag, taking the weight of his blade. Their weapons slam together, ringing with the force of the impact. "First I am going to kill you," she tells him. "And then I am going to eat you.

A sword is a weapon of war, a dagger is a weapon of murder.

Cuando me permito pensarlo, no puedo culpar a Locke por elegirla a ella. Soy violenta. He estado envenenandome durante semanas. Soy asesina, una mentirosa y una espia

The tan carpet was stiff and black with stripes of dried blood, spattered like a Jackson Pollock canvas. The walls were streaked with it, handprints smearing the dingy beige surfaces. And the bodies. Dozens of bodies. People she'd seen every day since kindergarten, people whom she'd played tag with and cried over and kissed, were lying at odd angles, their bodies pale and cold, their eyes staring like rows of dolls in a shop window.

First I am going to kill you,' she tells him. 'And then I am going to eat you.

Come fight me again," she calls after me as I head for the stairs. "I have secrets aplenty. There are so many things you don't know, daughter of Madoc. And I think you crave a little violence yourself.

You want me to free him? Let's gut him like haddock. Quicker and far more satisfying.

Why do we kill people who are killing people to show that killing people is wrong?

Why do we kill people, who have killed people, to show that killing people is wrong?

The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.

Revolution has become a sort of violent and hollow routine.