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People think we had a love-hate relationship. Well, I did not love him, nor did I hate him. We had read more
People think we had a love-hate relationship. Well, I did not love him, nor did I hate him. We had mutual respect for each other, even as we both planned each other's murder.
Murder, like talent, seems occasionally to run in families.
Murder, like talent, seems occasionally to run in families.
A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at read more
A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. The traitor is the plague.
Probably the toughest time in anyone's life is when you have to murder a loved one because they're the devil.
Probably the toughest time in anyone's life is when you have to murder a loved one because they're the devil.
Murder is always a mistake - one should never do anything one cannot talk about after dinner
Murder is always a mistake - one should never do anything one cannot talk about after dinner
Murder may pass unpunish'd for a time,
But tardy justice will o'ertake the crime.
Murder may pass unpunish'd for a time,
But tardy justice will o'ertake the crime.
Cast not the clouded gem away,
Quench not the dim but living ray,--
My brother man, Beware!
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Cast not the clouded gem away,
Quench not the dim but living ray,--
My brother man, Beware!
With that deep voice which from the skies
Forbade the Patriarch's sacrifice.
God's angel, cries, Forbear!
Nor is there any law more just, than that he who has plotted
death shall perish by his own read more
Nor is there any law more just, than that he who has plotted
death shall perish by his own plot.
[Lat., Neque enim lex est aequior ulla,
Quam necis artifices arte perire sua.]
One murder made a villain,
Millions a hero.--Princes were privileg'd
To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime.
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One murder made a villain,
Millions a hero.--Princes were privileg'd
To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime.
Ah! why will kings forget that they are men,
And men that they are brethren?