Fay Wray Quotes

I was surrounded at the time by about a dozen of the enemy, whose clubs rattled upon me without mercy, and the strokes of my sabre were rendered uncertain by the energetic pushes of an attendant who thus hoped to save me.

I know you are here to kill me. Shoot, coward, you are only going to kill a man.

He punched me. If that's his best punch, he'll be in trouble some day.

I was mugged when I was 12. I had a portable radio, and I ran into this building and these two guys came in and hit me, busted me up and took the radio. After that I was very paranoid and I started taking kung fu and karate. But I didn't want to fight.

If you believe that their real intention is to kill you, it isn't unreasonable to believe that they would lie to you.

One time, this guy was bothering my mother, and me and my brothers had a stern talking with the guy and a little bit of physicality with him. So he disappeared. But I'm not a magician.

One time, I was literally stopped on the street, literally and physically whipped around by this guy who looked at my face and was like, 'Are you Felix?' I looked very different then. I was like, 'Yah... Oh, yah!' I was stunned and slightly frightened.

I saw my brother have an altercation one time. He hit a guy with a left hook to the body and a right hand to the chin. He not only knocked the guy out, but out of wind. That stuck with me. It scared me.

I have one way of fighting: I'm going to come after you, put hands on you, and knock you out.

When bombing is going on, you see a lot of people screaming around you and you can't do anything if you're small. You just want to break out of that and be strong.

I know what it is like to fear violence. I understand the adrenalin rush that comes before violent confrontations. I write my scripts from an emotional point of view and direct so the audience can experience this adrenalin rush.

I don't know this Channing Crowder. All I know is that he's all tatted up, so I guess I ought to be nervous about him. If I was younger, I'd probably handle him myself.

At any given moment, if I see my bully, the guy who's trying to conquer me, we're going to find out. And if we could fight every time we came across each other, we would.

I'm scared of any fighter I've ever fought because they are some dangerous people to be dealing with.

If I can convince you that I'm going to beat you up, and you believe me, that's your fault.

It's unusual for me to be in front of an audience without somebody trying to knock my teeth out.

Please don't kill me!

No one has the answers, but one thing is true. You got to turn on evil, when its coming after you.

There are men with guns up there. When they see me, they will kill me, if they can," I tell my father quietly. I search his eyes. "Should I let them?" He stares at me for a few seconds. "Go," he says, "and God help you.

I should probably be afraid. But instead a hysterical laugh bubbles inside me, because I just remembered something: Maybe I can’t hold a gun. But I have a knife in my back pocket.

He may be a very nice man. But I haven't got the time to figure that out. All I know is, he's got a uniform and a gun and I have to relate to him that way. That's the only way to relate to him because one of us may have to die.

Please don't kill me, I'm nice.

Everything had been stripped of deceptions, that time. And that time I was afraid of everything.

Too timid to talk back, I shot my adversary.

My mother, for example, told the German officer not to kill her. She'd make it worth his while. And then, when they were doing it, she pulled a knife out of her belt and sliced open his chest, just like she used to open chicken breasts to stuff with rice for the Sabbath meal.