Jane Velez-Mitchell Quotes

Crimes spring from fixed ideas.

The first funeral for Andrew Goodman was at night and it was a lot of work. To begin with they had to kill him.

I am a prince I have it all, and I hear your foot steps on the wall, I wait in silence for your call, and take a shot and watch you fall.

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

I used to write things for friends. There was this girl I had a crush on, and she had a teacher she didn't like at school. I had a real crush on her, so almost every day I would write her a little short story where she would kill him in a different way.

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.

I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.

Everything has to do with murder.

Click bang, what a hang, your daddy just shot poor me.

Man down is a song about a girl who has committed a murder that she regrets and is completely remorseful about.

That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: again Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. And I untightened the next tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss . . .

Murder is terribly exhausting.

History is the study of the world's crime

Here's a little tip for you. If you don't like being called a murderer, don't kill people.

Sex is not only a divine and beautiful activity; it's a murderous activity. People kill each other in bed. Some of the greatest crimes ever committed were committed in bed. And no weapons were used.

I think sadness prevails in Syria now. We don't feel anything else but sadness because we have this killing every day, whether with chemical or any other kind.

Out, damned spot! Out, I say!

The man running toward me is not a man, he is a boy. A shaggy-haired boy with a crease between his eyebrows. Will. Dull-eyed and mindless, but still Will. He stops running and mirrors me, his feet planted and his gun up. In an instant, I see his finger poised over the trigger and hear the bullet slide into the chamber, and I fire. My eyes squeezed shut. Can't breathe. The bullet hit him in the head. I know because that's where I aimed it.

Now Catherine would die. That was what you did. You died. You did not know what it was about. You never had time to learn. They threw you in and told you the rules and the first time they caught you off base they killed you. Or they killed you gratuitously like Aymo. Or gave you the syphilis like Rinaldi. But they killed you in the end. You could count on that. Stay around and they would kill you.

Money made me evil, court cases got me stressed Niggaz aimin at my head but I still wear my vest.

One strange feeling, which I remember clearly, was a powerful link with the slain, particularly those that had fallen within the past hour or two. There was so much death around that life seemed almost indecent. Some men's uniforms were soaked with gobs of blood. The ground was sodden with it. I killed, too.

People behave badly and people are in prison and people are on death row, and there are no excuses for everybody's behavior, but most people are coming from abuse.

Abortion is not the lesser of two evils. It is a crime. It is to throw someone out in order to save another. That's what the Mafia does.

I do not support child abuse. It's a disgusting crime of which I am a victim.

Caroline Trent hadn't meant to shoot Percival Prewitt, but she had, and now he was dead. Or at least she thought he was dead.