Hitman Quotes
Quotes tagged as "hitman"
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“She doesn’t know,” Cate said. “Kellen is a secret. I didn’t think my mother would approve.”
“Why wouldn’t your mother approve?” Pugg asked.
“It’s my job,” Kellen said. “I kill people. It pays well, but it’s not universally socially acceptable.”
― Hot Stuff
“Why wouldn’t your mother approve?” Pugg asked.
“It’s my job,” Kellen said. “I kill people. It pays well, but it’s not universally socially acceptable.”
― Hot Stuff
“Faye tilted her head slightly. “When was your first kill?”
Winston met her stare for a long while, then exhaled. “I was nineteen, fighting a war I probably shouldn’t have been fighting, but it’s not like I knew that at the time.”
“Mm. Did you regret it?”
Winston grinned, but she could see the dark edges to it. “What? You think I come from some tragic backstory, blondie? That I’m a broken little boy who kills to fill that hole inside of my chest where my soul used to be? Nah. This ain’t one of them stories. I can’t dance or roll my tongue, but I can kill people pretty good. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at and when I lay my head down at night, I sleep like a baby. I don’t see their faces. Never have. Probably never will.”
A chill spilled through her. The matter-of-fact nature of his confession scared her more than almost anything else she’d ever heard him say.”
― Of Claws & Inferno
Winston met her stare for a long while, then exhaled. “I was nineteen, fighting a war I probably shouldn’t have been fighting, but it’s not like I knew that at the time.”
“Mm. Did you regret it?”
Winston grinned, but she could see the dark edges to it. “What? You think I come from some tragic backstory, blondie? That I’m a broken little boy who kills to fill that hole inside of my chest where my soul used to be? Nah. This ain’t one of them stories. I can’t dance or roll my tongue, but I can kill people pretty good. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at and when I lay my head down at night, I sleep like a baby. I don’t see their faces. Never have. Probably never will.”
A chill spilled through her. The matter-of-fact nature of his confession scared her more than almost anything else she’d ever heard him say.”
― Of Claws & Inferno
“I love cats, they're great; intelligent, affectionate, lovable, and this one was particularly nice, so picking it up and giving it a few slaps and a bit of a rough time was galling, even though it was unfortunately necessary. See, if you're hiding in someone's spare bedroom waiting for them to turn in for the night, the last thing you need is a cat meowing at the door trying to get in to see you because you've been stroking it all day. A bit of a shake and a growl in the cat's face and that's all that's usually needed for it to give the spare room and the horrible bastard inside a wide berth for the rest of the night.”
― The Hitman Diaries
― The Hitman Diaries
“As he drove away from his handiwork, knowing he'd left no survivors, the killer looked at the rising smoke and gave himself a pat on the back for another assignment well done...”
― THE HITMAN: A Short Story
― THE HITMAN: A Short Story
“He has me on a piece of string, dangling. Helpless. He wants to cut it and let me fall to my death.
But he can't. He'd miss me too much.
I smirk and take a step closer.”
― The Hit
But he can't. He'd miss me too much.
I smirk and take a step closer.”
― The Hit
“Lucius, my love. The only one to make me feel real emotions.
But I had to put a bullet in his head.”
― The Hit
But I had to put a bullet in his head.”
― The Hit
“Placing his suitcase on the seat next to him, he unbuttoned his suit jacket, loosened up his necktie and removed his fedora. He kept his custom eye wear on and made himself comfortable, looking more like a Wall Street accountant than the cold killer he'd become...”
― THE HITMAN: A Short Story
― THE HITMAN: A Short Story
“Jolie.
That’s her name.
Jolie Dubois.
I don’t bother writing it down, because it’s already engraved on my brain.
There are claws in my chest, rearranging organs and making me new. Making me into whatever she needs me to be. I will worship her. I will find this sweet girl and protect her from any harm. She is mine to guard, to keep, to marry. To fuck.
I’ve never had much interest in females. They are merely objects that need to be avoided so I can kill the men I am contracted to execute. They are occasional, faceless tools of comfort. This one is my angel. She was sent for me. My singing blood is telling me so.”
― My Husband, My Stalker
That’s her name.
Jolie Dubois.
I don’t bother writing it down, because it’s already engraved on my brain.
There are claws in my chest, rearranging organs and making me new. Making me into whatever she needs me to be. I will worship her. I will find this sweet girl and protect her from any harm. She is mine to guard, to keep, to marry. To fuck.
I’ve never had much interest in females. They are merely objects that need to be avoided so I can kill the men I am contracted to execute. They are occasional, faceless tools of comfort. This one is my angel. She was sent for me. My singing blood is telling me so.”
― My Husband, My Stalker
“I found my angel and made her mine.
No, I have to keep her. Safe. Happy. Untouched by anyone but me.
Forever.”
― My Husband, My Stalker
No, I have to keep her. Safe. Happy. Untouched by anyone but me.
Forever.”
― My Husband, My Stalker
“Bubba glared up at him, and August responded with one of those smiles that somehow managed to be both saccharine sweet and sarcastic enough to peel the paint off the walls. Well, what was left of the paint. He’d pointed that smile at Ricardo a few times, and Ricardo had contemplated pistol-whipping him, but he had to admit that when it was directed at someone else, it was hilarious.
He didn’t dare laugh, though. He was not giving August that satisfaction.”
―
He didn’t dare laugh, though. He was not giving August that satisfaction.”
―
“Okay, he’s not going to just tell us, so apparently we need to persuade him.” He quirked his lips as if he were really giving it some serious thought. “Do you think he has fortune cookies under his skin?”
Ricardo eyed him. “Fortune—what?”
August blinked with what Ricardo could only describe as sadistic innocence. “You know—where you break them open and answers come out.”
―
Ricardo eyed him. “Fortune—what?”
August blinked with what Ricardo could only describe as sadistic innocence. “You know—where you break them open and answers come out.”
―
“A change made by assassination and not by election is not democracy but it is reversed oppression. Its slave transaction from one master to another. There is no hope or future to live better lives and it has bad ending for people. Justice was not served but manipulated. The system will run as malfunctioning.”
―
―
“HOW TO KILL YOUR BEST FRIEND
Method 4: Electrocution
Hair dryer dropped in a bath tub? I suppose it's just about believable and I could probably engineer such a situation. But I Googled it (not on my own device, of course), and it seems that it's actually very unlikely to be fatal. Electricity is lazy; it seeks the path of least resistance. The current will almost certainly run to ground through the bathwater and the bath plug, rather than through the cardiac tissue, meaning that the only thing that gets successfully fried is the bath salts.
How else can you engender a fatal electrocution? With difficulty, according to the Google search results. There are too many variables. AC or DC current. Wet or dry hands. The material of the shoes the person is wearing. Whether the current finds a way to breach the skin to reach the soft, vulnerable, unresistant tissues inside-and how much water and how much fat are in those tissues.
The more I look at this, the more I realize how exceedingly difficult it is to kill a person-without immediately getting caught, I mean. Which is, ordinarily, a good thing, one supposes. Though not much help to me now.”
― How to Kill Your Best Friend
Method 4: Electrocution
Hair dryer dropped in a bath tub? I suppose it's just about believable and I could probably engineer such a situation. But I Googled it (not on my own device, of course), and it seems that it's actually very unlikely to be fatal. Electricity is lazy; it seeks the path of least resistance. The current will almost certainly run to ground through the bathwater and the bath plug, rather than through the cardiac tissue, meaning that the only thing that gets successfully fried is the bath salts.
How else can you engender a fatal electrocution? With difficulty, according to the Google search results. There are too many variables. AC or DC current. Wet or dry hands. The material of the shoes the person is wearing. Whether the current finds a way to breach the skin to reach the soft, vulnerable, unresistant tissues inside-and how much water and how much fat are in those tissues.
The more I look at this, the more I realize how exceedingly difficult it is to kill a person-without immediately getting caught, I mean. Which is, ordinarily, a good thing, one supposes. Though not much help to me now.”
― How to Kill Your Best Friend
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