Violent Outburst Quotes

The simplest Surrealist act consists of dashing down into the street, pistol in hand, and firing blindly, as fast as you can pull the trigger, into the crowd.

There is no such thing as a crime of passion, only a crime of possession.

She'd hit me before but never over and over and over and over into the head.

I had a romance novel inside me, but I paid three sailors to beat it out if me with steel pipes.

I may have punched walls when no one else was around.

I didn't mean to hit the umpire with the dirt, but I did mean to hit that bastard in the stands.

My dear children!" Nellie whopped him upside the head with her backpack. "Ow!" Uncle Alistair curled over, cupping his hand over his good eye. "Nellie!" Amy said. "Sorry," Nellie muttered. "I thought he was one of the bad guys.

I've stabbed two people with a fork today. What's wrong with me?

She has the majesty of hurricanes and explosions.

I'm such a huge fan of the horror genre and the supernatural elements... There was something that happened to me. It was easy to be wild and crazy, and just let go and attack people.

Harry," she said quietly, "I know you must be angry." I burn things to ash and smash holes in buildings when I'm angry," I said. "I'm a couple of steps past that point right now.

He stepped forward and punched Dorian in the face, hard enough that I heard a thwack. "Ow," moaned Dorian, wincing from the pain. "My greatest asset.

Americans are slow to anger, but once they do get angry, they are impossible to stop.

Seeing that my words had done absolutely nothing to pull North from whatever depths he was clinging to, Owain did what came naturally. He smacked North upside the head hard enough to send him sprawling into the window. And when it seemed that North would turn around and return the favor, Owain hit him again, harder.

A long time ago, I had a bird that annoyed me, and the bird had to go. The bird's neck was snapped. I would also snap Conor McGregor's neck in a similar fashion.

Derek lunged. He hit me in the shoulder and knocked me to the floor, landing on top of me. His body jerked, like he'd been hit with the spell, and I let out a yelp, struggling to get up, but he held me down, whispering "I'm okay, it's okay" until the words penetrated.

For a moment Jack felt the strongest inclination to snatch up his little gilt chair and beat the white-faced man down with it.

I hadn't seen my dad get violent since the Great Spatula Incident, and I wasn't anxious to see a repeat of that.

In general I was a good kid. It usually took a lot to make me mad. But once I reached the boiling point, I lost all rational control. Totally without thinking, when my anger was aroused, I grabbed the nearest brick, rock, or stick to bash someone. It was as if I had no conscious will in the matter.

My parents, last time we went to Ikea, got into a huge fight, almost got divorced. My dad accidentally put his fist through the wood. I don't know what it was made of. Just going there it's like a maze. My mom makes me go. I get lost. It's very stressful.

I've loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in school.

So what he supposed to do? Grab Bobbie's ax and make like Jack Nicholson in The Shinning? He could see it. Smash, crash, bash: Heeeeeeere's GARDENER!

While he was drunk asleep, or in his rage, or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed.

One situation – maybe one alone – could drive me to murder: family life, togetherness.

New York is where it is going to begin, I think. You can see it coming. The insect experts have learned how it works with locusts. Until locust population reaches a certain density, they all act like any grasshoppers. When the critical point is reached, they turn savage and swarm, and try to eat the world. We're nearing a critical point. One day soon two strangers will bump into each other at high noon in the middle of New York. But this time they won't snarl and go on. They will stop and stare and then leap at each others