Lizzie Andrew Borden Quotes

When I jerked it out the head remained in my leg, where it remains still. There were a couple of inches of blood on the shaft of the arrow when I pulled it out.

I looked, and saw that Bob had entirely lost his left ear, and a large piece from his left cheek. His right eye was a little discoloured, and the blood flowed profusely from his wounds.

I have a stab wound on my left hip and one on my thigh and a slash mark across my right calf. I have a bottle stab wound on my left calf.

The fact is, violence is not only not a beautiful thing, but it's also very painful and not without consequences for the perpetrator as well as the victim.

Before the old wound can be healed, there is fresh blood flowing.

I broke people's bones, tore muscles, ribs, faces, inflicted some serious and heavy damages to my opponents, etc... I got hurt myself, too, from serious attacks.

I said I fell down. Ah. The ground bloodied your nose, split yer lip, and punched ye in th' eye, all at once. I said I don't want to talk about it.

(Kiara sees Carlos' bleeding face)"Carlos! Oh my God, what happened?" "You still recognize me with a busted-up face. That's a good sign, right?

Lord Kane beat me up,” one said with a grin. There was blood on his teeth. “Did you see?” “Best. Night. Ever.

The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.

The problem to me is violence. It's not cool to kill somebody or hurt people.

I looked at my shoulder and saw a javelin stuck in it. I was in shock.

I'm not accident prone, really, but I was cutting something and sort of lost control, and it went through my big toe. There was a lot of blood and I nearly fainted, but its totally fine now.

I couldn't stand the idea of bloodshed, casualties.

The scar on my forehead is from running through a plate-glass panel when I was 15. I had 27 stitches, which took two hours.

When I was at Babbo, I was covered in scars and scabs and burned bits - melted hair, ribbed burns I got reaching across the top of a hot skillet... I sliced off the tip of my finger. I cleaved my forehead - a deep, ugly wound. Luckily, it regenerated.

I was shot from the funny gun.

With the help of a friend I got father into a wagon, when the crowd had gone. I held his head in my lap during the ride home. I believed he was mortally wounded. He had been stabbed down through the kidneys, leaving an ugly wound.

I don't know if it matters what country you're from, size of the city you're from, urban or rural, there are people that are hurting each other everywhere.

I dished out and suffered my fair share of bloody noses.

There are worse things than war.

This man who was my father's age hit me hard on my head when I was 17. I started bleeding. I took out my sandal and hit his head hard, and he started to bleed, too.

I could see hunks of metal and rocks sticking out of my legs.

When you're in a fight, and you get hit, it hurts. And as you get older, you begin to take on the aches and the bruises of doing that.