guns

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.

Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky." Excerpt from Grace Willow's Last Minute Bride

She was a ray of sunshine, a warm summer rain, a bright fire on a cold winter__ day, and now she could be dead because she had tried to save the man she loved.

The world is on fire with hate- everyone is blaming one another saying that religion is responsible for it!In all honesty, hate has no fate. But greed does it needs money, its faith.

I often think we should have tattooed on the back of whatever hand we use to shoot or write, 'I might be wrong.

A quiet woman is a firearm with a silencer.

One of the arguments that authoritarian governments use to ward off the call for greater political freedom is to argue that American-style democracy is no guarantee of good policy.... Over the years, I__e grown used to these arguments, and my response has rarely wavered: Sure, we might make dumb choices sometimes, but we will defend, to the end, the right to make choices at all, because we believe that our collective conscience, freely expressed, will eventually lead us in the right direction. When it comes to guns, it is getting harder to muster that argument abroad. Every new shooting, every new failure of will and citizenship, slashes another hole in our credibility as a way of life.

He was sound asleep, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the blessed fire blazing, an empty bottle of wine by his side. He hadn't been shaved recently, and he looked rumpled, dissolute and beautiful. Likea fallen angel. She moved to stand in front of him and pointed the pistol directly at his heart."I wouldn't do that if I were you," he murmured, and then he opened his extraordinary eyes. "It's alwaysunwise to shoot the man you're in love with.

Money, Gun and Lie can solve almost all the problems.

A coward's gun is emptied when fear pulls the trigger, and hate is the ammunition of choice.

In the debate over guns, both sides are angry. The pro-gunners are angry at the ignorance, lies, and distortions of the anti-gunners, and the anti-gunners are angry with the pro-gunners for presenting facts.

Take a little thought experiment. Imagine all the rampage school shooters in Littleton, Colorado; Pearl, Mississippi; Paducah, Kentucky; Springfield, Oregon; and Jonesboro, Arkansas; now imagine they were black girls from poor families who lived instead in Chicago, New Haven, Newark, Philadelphia, or Providence. Can you picture the national debate, the headlines, the hand-wringing? There is no doubt we__ be having a national debate about inner-city poor black girls. The entire focus would be on race, class, and gender. The media would doubtless invent a new term for their behavior, as with wilding two decades ago. We__ hear about the culture of poverty, about how living in the city breeds crime and violence. We__ hear some pundits proclaim some putative natural tendency among blacks toward violence. Someone would likely even blame feminism for causing girls to become violent in a vain imitation of boys. Yet the obvious fact that virtually all the rampage school shooters were middle-class white boys barely broke a ripple in the torrent of public discussion. This uniformity cut across all other differences among the shooters: some came from intact families, others from single-parent homes; some boys had acted violently in the past, and others were quiet and unassuming; some boys also expressed rage at their parents (two killed their parents the same morning), and others seemed to live in happy families.

It__ a cruel fact of war that it takes little more than applying pressure to one finger to end another person__ life. More than that, it__ a cruel fact of life that we are hardwired to follow the crowd in a moment of panic.

The shots left a hard ringing sound within the closeness of the brick walls. Terry held the pistol at arm's length on a level with his eyes--the Russian Tokarev resembling an old-model Colt .45, big and heavy--and made the sign of the cross with it over the dead. He said, "Rest in peace, motherfuckers," turned, and walked out of the beer lady's house to wait at the side of the road.

The wounded were crying, and the rest were dying. Jack stood alone in a hallway of mangled men, who had been trained for this

Guns are not the problem. The species is the problem.

Who gave you a gun?''The army.''Why?''That's what the army does, Simon.