When the victors rewrite history, it’s just another kind of war, waged after the battlefield killing is done, to murder the memory of the defeated.
I’m gonna need access that you don’t wanna give, and I’m gonna find answers that you may only think you want.[to Bancroft]
The moments of peace that we find sometimes, they aren’t anything but warfare, thinly disguised. And sometimes, surrender can be as savage as any attack.
The instinct of violence curls inside us like a parasite, waiting for a chance to feed on our rage and multiply until it bursts out of us.
It takes a deep kind of despair for a son to kill his father. It’s a kind of rage that you can’t escape from.