Still, it’s an interesting technique-leaving one person behind in order to find her or him somewhere else. And in someone else.
The definition of terrorism is killing civilians with the intent of changing their political affiliation.
I was a pretty angry kid, and I got into military history largely as a way to vent my own anger. As I got older it narrowed down to a more specific focus on individual violence. I’m just trying to understand where it came from.
Absolutely nothing brings out the killer instinct in the upper crust of New York Society like a charity function.
It didn’t make any more sense to me then than it does now, how life can pile troubles up on a man what don’t deserve them, while letting some of the biggest jackasses and scoundrels alive waltz their way through long, untroubled existences.
I have a grim outlook on the world, and in particular on humanity. Spent years denying it, but I am very misanthropic. And I live alone on a mountain for a reason.
People are disturbed enough by serial killers, but the whole notion of female violence, particularly maternal violence – the idea of mothers who kill – really unnerves people.
The defenders of decent society and the disciples of degeneracy are often the same people.
She has that quality, does the Hudson, as I imagine all great rivers do: the deep, abiding sense that those activities what take place on shore among human beings are of the moment, passing, and aren’t the stories by way of which the greater tale of this planet will, in the end, be told.
I have to be very careful, however, because I have no intention of providing an excuse for this behavior. It’s an attempt to explain how so many women come from backgrounds where the pressure to be a good mother is so severe that if they can’t do it, something really snaps.
Change isn’t something that most people enjoy, even if it’s progressive change.
How does the world look, I often found myself wondering, to a young man whose father is his enemy?
We are not obligated to provide everyone who comes to this country with a good life,” Morgan went on. “We are obligated to provide them with a chance to attain that life, through discipline and hard work. That chance is more than they have anywhere else. That is why they keep coming.
There’s plenty of stories that need telling what never get told, just because people can’t bear the listening.
I’d seen this happen several times before, in different institutions, but it was no less remarkable on each occasion: the words were like the flow of water over coals, taking away crackling heat and leaving only a steaming whisper, a perhaps momentary but nonetheless effective remission from deep-burning fire.
The hateful relationship between Japheth Dury and his mother must, we reasoned, have spilled over into self-hatred, as well – for how could any boy despised by his mother fail to question his own worth?
I fear that in New York State, the electrical chair is increasingly usurping the gallows, Mr. Wolff,” he said evenly. “Although I suspect that, based on your answers to my questions, you will find that out for yourself. God have mercy on you, sir.
If you’re gonna catch criminals, you got to be a bit of one yourself.
Yet the profound irony was that our killer believed he was providing himself with just those things: vengeance for the child he had been, protection for the tortured soul he had become.
P252 Habit dooms us all to fight out the battle of life upon the lines of our nurture or our early choice, and to make the best of a pursuit that disagrees, because there is no other for which we are fitted, and it is too late to begin again.