Somebody Kill Me Quotes & Sayings

I'm not helping you kill anybody else. It's just not happening. I'm done.""What makes you think you have a choice?""You know why? I'll tell you. Because we were just kissing in the street, and deep down, I don't believe you could actually blow up my house or kill my sister. I just don't, and she's probably not even in the house anymore anyway, so if you want to go in there and shoot somebody, fine, but you're on your own."Gobi paused, seeming to consider all of this. "What is it that you want to hear from me, Perry? Do you want me to tell you that these are bad people that I am killing tonight? Because they are. They are very bad people. They deserve to die, each and every one of them.""Nobody deserves to die.""Oh, really?""Okay, I mean, maybe people like Hitler and Pol Pot . . . dictators, tyrants, African warlords who starve their people into submission . . . but that guy at the bar wasn't an evil man.""How do you know? Because he had drinks with Hemingway?""I just know. — Joe Schreiber

Do you know what I thought when you tried to kill me? The first time? I thought, How can somebody want me dead when no one knows I'm alive? — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Oh, I'm just checking out books. I glanced at the one I was holding. Somehow, of all the places I could duck into, I'd wound up in the erotica section. In my hands was a book about bondage. Somebody kill me now. — Cindi Madsen

Death has always had a prominent place in my mind. There are times when I think somebody might kill me. — Dennis Rodman

I want to run around and play, too. I want to play tag without constantly being "it," because when I chase somebody now I'm ordered to make them a body that can never tag me back. I want to spin around until I get dizzy and feel like I have to puke. Then laugh and do it all over again. Not spin around to kill the person ready to stab me in the back and then vomit because of the resulting nausea. There's a part of me that wants to do the things that I now think are too stupid or too childish; it's just that part of me owes a debt to Death, and they're playing a mean game of hide-and-seek. — Sean Thompson

The worst thing about this modern world is that people think you get killed on television with zero pain and zero blood. It must enter into kids' heads that it's not very messy to kill somebody, and it doesn't hurt that much. That's a real sickness to me. That's a real sick thing. — David Lynch

It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill. — Emilie Autumn

He's going to kill me," Peppone murmured, his jaw drooping, "or at least send out the order to have someone take care of me. Well," with a sigh, "might as well get rid of this body before the others wake up." He canted his head and mused to himself. "Maybe I should carve it up first."
"At long last," Bartleby cried, raising his eyes and wringing his hands, "somebody who has no regard for collective conscience and general morality. Oh, happy, happy morning!"
"Take care, Peppone," Danaco laughed, "if you have so little regard for life and the creatural condition, Bartleby will attach himself to you and never leave you for a moment. — Michelle Franklin

And what causes orgasm in a man? Kate Daniels, the sex-ed specialist. Kill me, somebody. — Ilona Andrews

Americans would have a right to go to war with the Iraqis if we could name one author from Iraq. It disturbs me that we're going to war with somebody we know absolutely nothing about. Name one Iraqi poet, one Iraqi woman activist, one Iraqi singer. Name one Iraqi novelist. You can't. And how can you go kill someone you don't know anything about? — Jimmy Santiago Baca

Saiman reached into the trunk and pulled out a pink tulle tutu.
"No."
"Yes."
"It won't fit."
"Elastic waistband," Saiman said. "It will fit." Curran's grin was pure evil.
"Don't you dare," I told him.
"It's too bad the magic is up," he said. "I'd take pictures."
"Shut up."
"Have no fear, Alpha," Ascanio said. "We'll tell no one."
Kill me, somebody.
Saiman held out the tulle skirt to me.
"Maybe it will work without it."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"If I put this on, it will be ridiculous."
Saiman waved the pink tutu in front of me. Fine. I snatched it out of his hands and pulled it on over my hips.
Ascanio collapsed into a moaning heap of laughter.
"Now what?"
"Move around onstage. It would help if you danced."
Curran was dying. That was the only rational explanation for the noises coming from his direction. — Ilona Andrews

If somebody is going to kill me or hurt me..., let's be the enemy not my friends! — Deyth Banger

The policeman recognized me, but I suppose that's only natural. Silk was going to kill him, but I said no."
"Why?" Beldin asked bluntly.
"We were in the middle of a busy street for one thing. Killing somebody's the sort of thing you ought to do in private, wouldn't you say? — David Eddings

No, I mean I can smell somebody an' tell if they're gonna die. An old lady taught me how. Jean
Louise
Finch, you are going to die in three days. — Harper Lee

That was the end of the dialogue, because, I remember distinctly, he barely had time to say "What about the bread?" That was all. After that there was nothing but flame and noise. The kind of noise you wouldn't have thought possible. Our eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were so full of that noise I thought it was all over and I'd turned into noise and flame myself.

After a while the flame went away, the noise stayed in my head, and my arms and legs trembled as if somebody were shaking me from behind. My limbs seemed to be leaving me, but then in the end they stayed on. The smoke stung my eyes for a long time, and the prickly smell of powder and sulphur hung on, strong enough to kill all the fleas and bedbugs in the whole world. — Louis-Ferdinand Celine

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

Every time I stepped into the ring, somebody wanted to kill me. — Roberto Duran

Getting rewarded for being pregnant when you're a teenager? Are you serious? I mean, that makes me want to kill somebody. — Chelsea Handler

But while I was sitting down, I saw something that drove me crazy. Somebody'd written 'fuck you' on the wall. It drove me damn near crazy. I thought how Phoebe and all the other little kids would see it, and how they'd wonder what the hell it meant, and then finally some dirty kid would tell them - all cockeyed naturally - what it meant, and how they'd all think about it and maybe even worry about it for a couple of days. I kept wanting to kill whoever'd written it. — J.D. Salinger

Do you ever leave a message for somebody and the answering machine cuts you off, and you have to decide whether you should not call back, or call back and appear like a stalker? "Hi. It's me again. I forgot to tell you that I'm going to kill you. Because I'm the freak who keeps calling and calling." — Jim Gaffigan

I would never kill somebody, unless they pissed me off. — Trey Parker

I was a child, and my mother was psychotic. She loved me, but I didn't really feel I had a mother. And when you live with somebody who is paranoid and thinks you're trying to kill them all the time, you tend to feel a little betrayed. — Alan Alda

Kate Daniels and her deadly attack poodle. Kill me, somebody. Julie, my adopted niece, would have a field day with this. — Ilona Andrews

Dani: Crank it up. Lets get this party started. *I hand Dancer my iPod.*
Lor: What is this crap. Where the hell is Hendrix on this thing?
Jo: Did you get any Muse?
Dani: Muse is something you do
Jo: Distrubed is something you are
Dancer: And Godsmacked is something you get
Lor: Don't you have any Motley Crue or Van Halen?
Christian: How about some Flogging Molly?
Ryodan: Whats the deal with all the Linkin Park, for fuck's sake.
Dancer: Mega has a crush on Chester
Jo: You got any Adele?
Dani: Got some Nicki Minaj.
Ryodan: Somebody kill me now. — Karen Marie Moning

I was pretty hot-tempered all through school. I remember my high school basketball coach telling me: 'Boy, if you don't learn to control that temper, you're gonna kill somebody.' — Tony Dorsett

Somebody at one of these places asked me: "What do you do? How do you write, create?" You don't, I told them. You "don't try". That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like it's looks, you make a pet out of it. — Charles Bukowski

Andrea turned her back to Desandra and rolled her eyes. Raphael grimaced. They both looked scandalized. Dear God, what could she have said to scandalize a bouda ...
"No, really!" Desandra nodded. "Okay, so most guys don't have a nice ball sack, right? It looks all hairy and wrinkled like some small animal died between their legs, but Gerardo's is like two plums in a velvet bag ... "
Derek, who'd been lingering in the doorway, took a careful step to the left behind the wall and disappeared from my view.
Kill me, somebody. I raised my hand. "Hold that thought. I need to borrow Andrea for a minute."
I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hallway. Behind us Raphael growled, "Don't leave me!"
Andrea leaned towards me. "Plums."
"Listen ... "
Andrea raised her hands, imitating holding plums the size of small coconuts, and moved them up and down. — Ilona Andrews

When I was a kid I got mad enough to want to kill somebody but as you travel the world and I'm struggling with a freedom fight against nations, you can't get enough hate in you to be mad at one man just because it's a boxing match.Never. Even Floyd Paterson, who condemned my Islamic religion and didn't want to call me Muhammad Ali and said I should've gone to the army and I should be in jail. — Muhammad Ali

But you like to cry over stories?" "Oh, yes, in the middle of them. But I like everything to come right at last." "I must have one pathetic scene in it," said Anne thoughtfully. "I might let ROBERT RAY be injured in an accident and have a death scene." "No, you mustn't kill BOBBY off," declared Diana, laughing. "He belongs to me and I want him to live and flourish. Kill somebody else if you have to." For — L.M. Montgomery

Cabal regarded her with mild amusement. "Smile when you whisper," he advised her. "You're supposed to be flirting with me, if you recall?"
She stared at him icily. Then suddenly her expression thawed and she smiled winsomely, her eyes dewy with romantic love. "Oh, sweetheart ... somebody tried to kill you? Whosoever would do such a thing to my nimpty-bimpty snookums?"
Cabal could not have been more horrified if she'd pulled off her face to reveal a gaping chasm of eternal night from which glistening tentacles coiled and groped. That had already happened to him once in his life, and he wasn't keen to repeat the experience.
"What?" he managed in a dry whisper.
"Smile when you whisper," she said, her expression fixed and blood-curdlingly coquettish. You're supposed to be flirting with me, remember?"
"Please don't do that. — Jonathan L. Howard

Stained is about a lonely bookshop keeper, and her past comes back to haunt her. I play a femme fatale, schizophrenic serial killer. They offered me the part and I was like, "I'm just curious why you thought I would be perfect for this role," and the director (Karen Lam) said, "You have this look that, when you're smiling, you're really sweet, but when you're not smiling, you look like you could kill somebody." — Tinsel Korey

But you can't make war personal," I say, "or you'll never make the right decisions."
"And if you didn't make personal decisions, you wouldn't be a person. All war is personal somehow, isn't it? For somebody? Except it's usually hate."
"Lee - "
"I'm just saying how lucky he is to have someone love him so much they'd take on the whole world." His Noise is uncomfortable, wondering what I'm looking like, how I'm responding. "That's all I'm saying."
"He'd do it for me," I say quietly.
I'd do it for you too, Lee's Noise says.
And I know he would.
But those people who die because we do it, don't they have people who'd kill for them?
So who's right? — Patrick Ness

I open the gallery door, walk in with that sinking feeling I always have in galleries. It's the carpets that do it to me, the hush, the sanctimoniousness of it all: galleries are too much like churches, there's too much reverence, you feel there should be some genuflecting going on. Also I don't like it that this is where paintings end up, on these neutral-toned walls with the track lighting, sterilized, rendered safe and acceptable. It's as if somebody's been around spraying the paintings with air freshener, to kill the smell. The smell of blood on the wall. — Margaret Atwood

Once the man vacates the room, Genova motions toward the table between us. "Gun."
I hold up my hands. "I don't have one."
His brow furrows. "You came unarmed?"
"I never carry a gun," I say, "but that doesn't mean I'm unarmed."
Everything's a weapon if you look at it the right way.
"Knives, then."
"None of those, either."
"Then what do you got?"
"Not much." I consider it for a moment. "Some spare change, a peppermint, my wallet ... oh, and I've got a pen in my pocket."
He looks at me with disbelief. "A pen."
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a simple black ballpoint ink pen.
Probably cost a dollar.
"You gonna kill somebody with that?" he asks.
I shrug, setting it on the table. "You never know. — J.M. Darhower