The real violence, the violence that I realized was unforgivable, is the violence that we do to ourselves, when we’re too afraid to be who we really are.
People who get violent get that way because they can’t communicate.
Violence makes violence, makes nothing much at all.
Violence is a disease. You don’t cure a disease by spreading it to more people.
In all the world, violent men are the easiest to deal with.
Violence changes things.
At its heart, violence is almost always, in one way or another, personal.
Violence is discouraged but not prohibited.
There’s always a need for violence.
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.
My life’s been a circle of violence and degradation long as I can remember. I’m ready to tie it off.
I choose violence.
