Put A Bullet In My Head Quotes & Sayings

This country isn't working for working people. It's working only for people at the top. That's not the American dream. That's the American nightmare. — Elizabeth Warren

Nobody really knows what I am," Nyx said. "Not until I put a bullet in their head. — Kameron Hurley

My preparation is always mediation and deep breathing. And the rubbing of my hands together just gets my energy going. — John Edward

Many of the songs were written as a way of paying tribute to specific people, but in the end the songs took on a life of their own and I didn't worry about accuracy or biographical truth, so it's not a problem. — Michael Gira

everything is normal we have our tv and mcdonalds people wash their cars on their driveways on a sunday afternoon and mow their lawns hang pictures of their blonde blue-eyed children neatly on magnolia walls and in the future everyone will sidestep questions speak with the vapidity of politicians in a limited language devoid of passion and truth and in the future air-raid sirens will sound every time the sun comes out and no one will ever put a bullet in the head of a politician again everything will be bland and painless and whitewashed and the government will finally have won completely — U.V. Ray

You will die."
"I guess. I don't know." She shook her head, trying to pick through her feelings. "I used to think I was alive just because I kept getting away. If someone didn't put a bullet in my head, I was winning. I was still breathing, right?" She looked at the blackened land around her, feeling tired and sad and alone. "But now I'm thinking it ain't like that. Now I'm thinking that once you got enough dead looking over your shoulder, you're dead anyway. Don't matter if you're still walking and talking, they weigh you down. — Paolo Bacigalupi

Electronic communication makes possible what has previously been excluded: namely, active, simultaneous and reciprocal contact between individuals across all frontiers constituted by countries, religions and continents. — Ulrich Beck

He told me that once, in the war, he'd come upon a German soldier in the grass with his insides falling out; he was just lying there in agony. The soldier had looked up at Sergeant Leonard, and even though they didn't speak the same language, they understood each other with just a look. The German lying on the ground; the American standing over him. He put a bullet in the soldier's head. He didn't do it with anger, as an enemy, but as a fellow man, one soldier helping another. — Libba Bray

Humans are driven by a perpetual and restless desire of power. — Thomas Hobbes

I put a bullet into the back of the crocodile's neck just behind the head, thus killing it. If a crocodile is hit in any other part of its anatomy it disappears into the water and is irrecoverable. — Louis Leakey

Victor waited until Ozols had passed out of the light before squeezing the trigger with smooth, even pressure. Suppressed gunshots interrupted the early morning stillness. Ozols was hit in the sternum, twice in rapid succession. The bullets were low powered, subsonic 5.7 mm, but larger rounds could have been no more fatal. Copper-encased lead tore through skin, bone, and heart before lodging side by side between vertebrae. Ozols collapsed backward, hitting the ground with a dull thud, arms outstretched, head rolling to one side. Victor melted out of the darkness and took a measured step forward. He angled the FN Five-seveN and put a bullet through Ozols's temple. He was already dead, but in Victor's opinion there was no such thing as overkill. — Tom Wood

It's more than that. You'd take a bullet for him if you had to." I didn't answer. "You would! Oh, my goodness!" I stood. "I'm going to grab some of those dresses. I'll be right back." I tried not to be afraid of the thoughts in my head. Because if it was a choice between him or me, I didn't think I'd be able not to put him first. He was the prince, and his life was invaluable to the country. But more than that, it was invaluable to me. I shrugged the thought away. Besides, it wasn't as if it would ever happen. — Kiera Cass

All his ghosts, though, were gone. Except the boy. The boy cocked his head at Joe, as if surprised he was coming closer. Joe said, "You're me?" The boy seemed confused by the question. Because he wasn't the boy anymore. He was Vivian Ignatius Brennan. Saint Viv. The Gatekeeper. The Undertaker. "There were just too many mistakes," Saint Viv said kindly. "Too late to go back and fix them all. Too late." Joe didn't even see the gun in his hand until Vivian fired the bullet into his heart. Didn't make much noise, just a soft pop. The impact swept Joe's legs out from under him, and he fell in the street. He put one hand to the cobblestone and tried to stand, but his heels wouldn't grip the stone. Blood left the hole in the center of his chest and spilled onto his lap. His lungs whistled through the hole. The getaway car pulled up behind Vivian and a woman screamed hopelessly from somewhere close by. Tomas, if you're seeing this, for Christ's — Dennis Lehane

The only job that was ever of interest to me other than filmmaking is architecture. — Christopher Nolan

Her And Put A Bullet Through Her Head Before He Was Stopped Melissa Jeltsen — Anonymous

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
'Good-morning,' and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich
yes, richer than a king
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head. — Edwin Arlington Robinson

When I'm a little fatigued, sometimes I baby it. I don't try to do it. I'm not 100 percent. I probably won't be the rest of conference play. I just have to play through it. I've never really been injured before. — Bobby Jones

I gotta call Vanni tonight, and tell her. I've got her all confused and totally furious ... "
"Paul, you can't tell her on the phone," Jack said.
"But - "
"Paul! She's gonna hang up on you! And then the next time you show your face, she's going to put a bullet in your head. And Walt will help her line up her shot. — Robyn Carr

The second we put a bullet in the head of one of those undead monsters
the moment one of us drove a hammer into one of their faces
or cut a head off. We became what we are! And that's just it. THAT's what it comes down to. You people don't know what we are.
We're surrounded by the DEAD. We're among them
and when we finally give up we become them! We're living on borrowed time here. Every minute of our life is a minute we steal from them! You see them out there. You KNOW that when we die
we become them. You think we hide behind walls to protect us from the walking dead?
Don't you get it? We ARE the walking dead! WE are the walking dead. — Robert Kirkman

She froze when she thought she heard movement in a nearby copse of trees, then scanned the area. Probably just an animal. They tended to be in jungles. She turned back to the stream -
"Put your hands on your head."
Not an animal. As she slowly stood and turned, she recognized that these weren't locals. These were bad guys, three of them with machine guns aimed at her face.
In her present mood that equaled: Why, I believe I'll turn them into frogs! Just as she reached for the mirror in her pocket, they cocked their weapons.
The oldest man was clearly the leader, and his tone was deadly as he said, "Your hands on your head - or I'll put a bullet into it." He didn't have a thick accent. These must be the international narco-terrorists, the ones who made the cartel look mild. So much for the mirror's judgment.
Unless this was still better than Bowen. — Kresley Cole

Liam, soon-to-be-fucking-dead, Callahan was walking down the stairs - my fucking stairs - with his sex hair high and his green eyes sharper than razor blades. He was beautiful, and I almost regretted the fact that I would have to put a bullet in his head and then smash it through a fucking wall.
-Melody G. — J.J. McAvoy

I am losing her. I wish I would not. But wishing gets you nothing. — Carrie Anne Noble

Win through your actions, never through argument. — Robert Greene

Dreaming is the poetry of Life, and we must be forgiven if we indulge in it a little. — John Galsworthy

I'm really only capable to two emotions at this point: lust and hunger. I lost revenge a few years back, and even then, it was reserved only for ex-girlfriends and particular football games that caused me to lose a lot of money. — Jason Mulgrew

A writer's pen depreciates with every word that it writes. Whereas she appreciates with every word that she writes. — Mokokoma Mokhonoana

This does not mean that some of us should not want, in a rather dispassionate sort of way, to put a bullet through csh's head. — Larry Wall

On her eighteenth birthday, my mother had disposed of a man-eating tiger that had ravaged the villages in the hills north of Hanoi. Now, without a moment's hesitation, she raised my father's gun, took aim and put a single, irreproachable bullet through my husband's head. — Angela Carter

Sometimes there's no map when you go to new places, you have to make unexpected turns, but the beauty is these places are new. — Christopher Hawke

Acting Government officials, they said they wanted - they would be happy, they would love to put a bullet in my head, to poison me as I was returning from the grocery store, and have me die in the shower. — Edward Snowden

Middling monsters died at the point of pitchforks, burned with torches, or at the butt of silver-capped canes wielded by angry, geriatric Poles. Middling people were dime-a-dozen, emptied souls, shorn sheeple, human husks. A good monster didn't worry about what it was doing; it just did it. A true predator didn't worry about guilt, or being popular, or anything. It just cruised along, living for the kill, surviving. A good person, well, she'd put a bullet in her head or weigh her feet down and throw herself into the Chicago River, holding her breath until she went to the sludgy, filthy bottom, and had to open wide and breathe water until she died. — D.T. Neal