Marie Lu Quotes

Anybody can kill anybody.

The fact is that violence gives you a rush.

Boxing has become America's tragic theater.

We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to Christianity. We weren't punctilious about locating and punishing only Hitler and his top officers. We carpet-bombed German cities; we killed civilians. That's war. And this is war.

You live by the gun and knife, and die by the gun and knife.

I have a kind of magnetic attraction to situations of violence.

I give the name violence to a boldness lying idle and enamored of danger.

Politics is comparable to boxing. The only thing is that in politics there are basically no rules. In boxing, you can get a black eye, but in politics you can get poison in your food or a bullet in the head. It's definitely rougher and tougher than other sports.

A tiger, a panther, a buffalo, or a hog, rouses your uttermost energies for its destruction—you even risk your lives in its pursuit. How much higher game is a Thug’s! His is man: against his fellow-creatures in every degree, from infancy to old age, he has sworn relentless, unerring destruction!

The combat man isn't the same clean-cut lad because you don't fight a kraut by Marquis of Queensberry rules. You shoot him in the back, you blow him apart with mines, you kill or maim him the quickest and most effective way you can with the least danger to yourself. He does the same to you.

Some have made boxing a terrible thing to be around.

I personally won't have anything live in my house that can't move the car on street-sweeping day or grate carrots. Plus, I don't mind being talked to harshly. I want to be challenged by something more complex than a Wheaton terrier.

People can dress it up however they want to, but boxing is life and death.

Crazy gets all the knives.

All you will get from me is death.

He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife?

Let's just kill everyone and let God sort them out.

When a naked man is chasing a woman through an alley with a butcher knife and a hard-on, I figure he isn't out collecting for the Red Cross.

Hey, Volusian, you haven't been checking me out, have you?" He gave me his trademark bland stare. "I assure you, mistress, the only allure your bare flesh has for me is to remind me how easy it will be to slice open." I laughed. If not for the fact he was actually serious, he'd be so much fun.

Well, you know what they say. A bullet always tells the truth.

The brazen throat of war.

If I ever bore you, it'll be with a knife.

What is that in his hand?" "A cleaver. As in-" "Butcher's knife." "You got it." "I hope not." "He does not look happy." "Are you sure it's a he?" "I don't want to know.

We sit in silence awhile then I blurt out the thing that's on both our minds. "How are we going to kill these people, Peeta?

Who said to kill does not require gentleness?