Nancy Sinatra Quotes

I just shot John Lennon.

A very beautiful honey blonde, Sharon Tate, looked into the eyes of the man who the evidence shows just four and a half months later would order her tragic and violent death.

I was in Deadwood at the time and on hearing of the killing made my way at once to the scene of the shooting and found that my friend had been killed by McCall.

I was in prison for a charge in Texas, murder one. Back in the '70s in Texas, I was there. I heard the shot. I was in the car.

Homicide is the best material I've had the chance to do.

Oh, Mrs. Churchill, do come over, someone has killed father.

I remember we woke up one morning at Denny's house and John Phillips called. He said, you guys okay? We said, yeah, what's wrong, what's going on? He said, well, everybody's dead over at Sharon's house at Terry Melcher's place.

A young woman is dead. I don’t care. You probably don’t care. The police don’t care. The papers don’t care. The punks for the most part don’t care. The only people that care are (I suppose) her parents and (I’m almost certain) the boy accused of murdering her.

Murder is only killing in the wrong place.

Down by the river, I shot my baby dead.

How do you 'accidentally' kill a noble man in his own mansion?" "With a knife in the chest. Or, rather, a pair of knives in the chest.

Another murder I committed made the front page.

Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth

Yes. I killed him. And buried her in flowers," I say. "And I sang her to sleep.

There are, fortunately, very few people who can say that they have actually attended a murder.

It's always bad news when you kill your date

Let's say you have an ax. Just a cheap one, from Home Depot. On one bitter winter day, you use said ax to behead a man. Don't worry, the man was already dead. Or maybe you should worry, because you're the one who shot him.

Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would’ve done everyone a favor. . . .

All killing is not murder any more than all sexual intercourse is adultery.

I slew him-this right hand struck the dagger to his heart. My deeds slew Christ. Alas! I slew my best beloved; I killed him who loved me with an everlasting love. Oh eyes, why do you refuse to weep when you see Jesus' body mangled and torn? Give vent to your sorrow, Christians, for you have good reason to do so.

To say that I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor.

When we want to read of the deeds that are done for love, whither do we turn? To the murder column.

I hate the murderer, love him murdered.

Murder begins where self-defense ends.

In June 1968, five days before my mother's forty -sixth birthday, the world fell apart again. Sirhan Sirhan shot Bobby Kennedy, who died the next day. Why were people shooting all the Kennedys? Had the country gone mad?