A good man will kill you with hardly a word.
If I asked people to live as I live, they would kill me.
It will be said that the joy of mental adventure must be rare, that there are few who can appreciate it, and that ordinary education can take no account of so aristocratic a good. I do not believe this. The joy of mental adventure is far commoner in the young than in grown men and women. . . . It is rare in later life because everything is done to kill it during education.
Like Scout and her father in To Kill a Mockingbird, my father would pull me onto his lap each night in our four-room apartment and read aloud.
Use sin as it will use you; spare it not, for it will not spare you; it is your murderer, and the murderer of the world: use it, therefore, as a murderer should be used. Kill it before it kills you.
We have found ways to capture, kill and market ocean wildlife on an unprecedented scale. It's an absolute catastrophe.
Just one more thing. I kill Snow.
I do not wish to kill nor to be killed, but I can foresee circumstances in which these things would be by me unavoidable.
Anyone who wants to help me doesn't. Anyone who wants to kill me might. Anyone who wants to love me better not.
But most of all, the train that kept rollin' all night long of rock n' roll you cannot kill. It will live forever.
Some experts say we are moving back to the pre-antibiotic era. No. This will be a post-antibiotic era. In terms of new replacement antibiotics, the pipeline is virtually dry. A post-antibiotic era means, in effect, an end to modern medicine as we know it. Things as common as strep throat or a child's scratched knee could once again kill.
They say hot dogs can kill you. How do you know it's not the bun?
God has to nearly kill us sometimes, to teach us lessons.
You know you're getting older when your haters now want to kill you.
I am not afraid of much. I kill all the spiders in my house, and I'm planning to go skydiving. I am into girl power, and I'm very self-sufficient.
. . . You find a way, somehow to get through the most horrible things, things you think would kill you. You find a way and you move through the days, one by one, in shock, in despair, but you move. The days pass, one after the other, and you go along with them - occasionally stunned, and not entirely relieved, to find that you are still alive.
It may be that. . . when the advance of destructive weapons enables everyone to kill everybody else nobody will want to kill anyone at all. [Referring to the hydrogen bomb. ]
He turns all of his injuries into strengths, that which does not kill him makes him stronger, he is superman.
That which does not kill you usually circles around and tries again.
. . . and I have this stupid little thought that Aaron didn't survive the croc attack after all, that he died but he's so pissed off at me that dying didn't stop him from coming here to kill me anyway.
