The bad man is continually at war with, and in opposition to, himself.
Only the bad man is alone.
I'm the greatest, I'm a bad man, and I'm pretty!
. . . one of those very bad men that not even postmodernism can explain away.
The gifts of bad men bring no good with them.
A bad man is worse when he pretends to be a saint.
The gift of a bad man can bring no good.
I am not a criminal, for I destroyed a bad man. I thought I was right.
When it comes to the point, really bad men are just as rare as really good ones.
Even bad men love their mamas.
I'm a good woman for a bad man.
No bad man can be a good poet.