Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
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Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.

Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and
you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, read more

Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and
you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a god.

Erroneous vassals! the great King of Kings
Hath in the table of his law commanded
That thou read more

Erroneous vassals! the great King of Kings
Hath in the table of his law commanded
That thou shalt do no murder. Will you then
Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's?

It is one of the incidents of the profession.
[Lat., E un incidente del mestiere.]

It is one of the incidents of the profession.
[Lat., E un incidente del mestiere.]

'A took my father grossly, full of bread,
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
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'A took my father grossly, full of bread,
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
And how his audit stands, who knows save heaven?

Maybe this is why so many serial killers work in pairs. It's nice not to feel alone in a world read more

Maybe this is why so many serial killers work in pairs. It's nice not to feel alone in a world full of victims or enemies. It's no wonder Waltraud Wagner, the Austrian Angel of Death, convinced her friends to kill with her.It just seems natural. You and me against the world...

Criminals do not die by the hands of the law; they die by the hands of other men.

Criminals do not die by the hands of the law; they die by the hands of other men.

Remorse for what? You people have done everything in the world to me. Doesn't that give me equal right?

Remorse for what? You people have done everything in the world to me. Doesn't that give me equal right?

Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time,
Ere humane stature purged the gentle weal;
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Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time,
Ere humane stature purged the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been performed
Too terrible for the ear. The time has been
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end. But now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools. This is more strange
Than such a murder is.