Richelle Mead Quotes

Violence and chaos were an ever-present part of the world that I grew up in. And unfortunately, it wasn't just in my family. Sometimes, you'd see, you know, Mom fighting with one of her boyfriends. But a lot of times, you'd see people exploding on each other in a local restaurant or on the street.

When people say there is too much violence in my books, what they are saying is there is too much reality in life.

You know, what we do know is that there is a high frequency of violence in the home of those who bully.

If family violence teaches children that might makes right at home, how will we hope to cure the futile impulse to solve worldly conflicts with force?

Our society has gotten to the point where we might soon become less and less shocked by any kind of violence.

We recognize that violence is a learned behavior. One of the best classrooms for learning violence is in the home.

My family would try and trick us and I would come to a party and she would be there. When I tell you the 'Love & Hip Hop' scene is nothing compared to what was happening with me and mom... throwing things at each other, the cursing, the words.

Family!... You might just as well celebrate battle, murder and sudden death.

We, the lineal representatives of the successful enactors of one scene of slaughter after another, must, whatever more pacific virtues we may also possess, still carry about with us, ready at any moment to burst into flame, the smoldering and sinister traits of character by means of which they lived through so many massacres, harming others, but themselves unharmed.

I thought that Mr. Clutter was a very nice gentleman. I thought so right up to the moment that I cut his throat.

Violence diminishes our humanity.

I mean when was the last time we had one of these contract signings... that didn't end... in some sort of horrible physical calamity? So if you wanna cut to the chase, you know, we can flip the table over, we can all start beating each other up or we can at least make this entertaining.

Men appear to prefer ruining one another's fortunes, and cutting each other's throats about a few paltry villages, to extending the grand means of human happiness.

I used to do my dad smoked, he drank, we finally had to kill him.

Lots of people look up to Billy Martin. That's because he just knocked them down.

To hit someone means to adopt his point of view.

I want war. To me all means will be right. My motto is not "Don't, whatever you do, annoy the enemy." My motto is "Destroy him by all and any means." I am the one who will wage the war!

He picked up the wrench and broke the guy’s wrist with it, one, and then the other wrist, two, and turned back and did the same to the guy who had held the hammer, three, four. The two men were somebody’s weapons, consciously deployed, and no soldier left an enemy’s abandoned ordnance on the field in working order. The doctor’s wife was watching from the cabin door, all kinds of terror in her face. "What?" Reacher asked her.

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.

The man running toward me is not a man, he is a boy. A shaggy-haired boy with a crease between his eyebrows. Will. Dull-eyed and mindless, but still Will. He stops running and mirrors me, his feet planted and his gun up. In an instant, I see his finger poised over the trigger and hear the bullet slide into the chamber, and I fire. My eyes squeezed shut. Can't breathe. The bullet hit him in the head. I know because that's where I aimed it.

Suppose I lay down on the pavement and you run over me a few times with my own car...just for old times.

Heroic dreams are the consolation of the unhappy. After all, when people like us say we're being heroic, it usually means we're about to kill each other--or kill ourselves.

If you do not apologize to Lady Honoria,” Marcus said, his voice so mild as to be terrifying, “I will kill you.” There was a collective gasp, and Daisy faked a swoon, sliding elegantly into Iris, who promptly stepped aside and let her hit the floor. “Oh, come now,” Mr. Grimston said. “Surely it won’t come to pistols at dawn.” “I’m not talking about a duel,” Marcus said. “I mean I will kill you right here.

War. What was it about the prospect of some bloody enterprises that reduced men to the level of animals?