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.

Assassination is the extreme form of censorship.

Assassination is the extreme form of censorship.

I have learned from an early age to abjured the use of meat, and the time will come when men read more

I have learned from an early age to abjured the use of meat, and the time will come when men such as I will look upon the murder of animals as they now look upon the murder of men

The very emphasis of the commandment: Thou shalt not kill, makes it certain that we are descended from an endlessly read more

The very emphasis of the commandment: Thou shalt not kill, makes it certain that we are descended from an endlessly long chain of generations of murderers, whose love of murder was in their blood as it is perhaps also in ours.

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.

Blood, though it sleep a time, yet never dies.
The gods on murtherers fix revengeful eyes.

Blood, though it sleep a time, yet never dies.
The gods on murtherers fix revengeful eyes.

You also, O son Brutus.
[Lat., Et tu, Brute fili.]

You also, O son Brutus.
[Lat., Et tu, Brute fili.]

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
read more

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!

Murder, like talent, seems occasionally to run in families.

Murder, like talent, seems occasionally to run in families.