vengeance

War always reaches the depths of horror because of idiots who perpetuate terror from generation to generation under the pretext of vengeance.

If you don__ take care of the disenfranchised and outcasts of your city, they will come knocking on your door one day with revenge and bitterness

What? Why are you making the glee nose? The death of my world is funny? The final vengeance of my people? I will kill you.

We can't continue with a justice of vengeance. Peace will require us to accept a certain degree of impunity it's inevitable.

The injury that we do to a man must be such that we need not fear his vengeance.

As he returned to the bed, he could see Vallant eyeing him warily, but he ignored this, sat on the opposite end and braced the pad on his

We might not win today" But Time is our best friend, HE will catch up with you and drag you down... Vengeance will be ours

And I may not omit here a special work of God's providence. There was a proud and very profane young man [aboard the Mayflower], one of the seamen, of a lusty, able body, which made him the more haughty; he would always be contemning the poor people in their [sea]sickness, and cursing them daily with grievous execrations, and did not let to tell them, that he hoped to help cast half of them overboard before they came to their journey's end, and to make merry with what they had; and if he were by any gently reproved, he would curse and swear most bitterly.But it pleased God before they came half seas over, to smite this young man with a grievous disease, of which he died in a desperate manner, and so was himself the first that was thrown overboard. Thus his curses light on his own head; and it was an astonishment to all his fellows, for they noted it to be the just hand of God upon him.

Winter is coming, warned the Stark words, and truly it had come to them with a vengeance. But it is high summer for House Lannister. So why am I so bloody cold?

If you're betrayed, release disappointment at once.By that way, the bitterness has no time to take root.

I know precisely what honor is, Heracles. Honor is the artifice kings sell the peasants_ sons so that they may fight and die without pay. Honor is what drives a peaceful man to bloody vengeance. Honor is what drove the Celts to behead the children of the Apache Courts.

The great poets are full of bullshit. Love has nothing on hatred's capacity to give a man purpose.

Vengeance ought to be spoken through gritted teeth, spittle flying, the cords of one's soul so entangled in it that you can't let it go, even if you try. If you feel it--if you really feel it--then you speak it like it's a still-beating heart clenched in your fist and there's blood running down your arm, dripping off your elbow, and you can't let go.

In some cases, you can tell how somebody is being treated by their own boss from the way they are treating someone to whom they are a boss.

If the secret core of potlatch is the reciprocity of exchange, why is this reciprocity not asserted directly, why does it assume the __ystified_ form of two consecutive acts each of which is staged as a free voluntary display of generosity? Here we encounter the paradoxes of forced choice, of freedom to do what is necessary, at its most elementary: I have to do freely what I am expected to do. (If, upon receiving a gift, I immediately return it to the giver, this direct circulation would amount to an extremely aggressive gesture of humiliation, it would signal that I refused the other__ gifts _ recall those embarrassing moments when elderly people forget and give us last year__ present once again _ ) _the reciprocity of exchange is in itself thoroughly ambiguous; at its most fundamental, it is destructive of the social bond, it is the logic of revenge, tit for tat. To cover this aspect of exchange, to make it benevolent and pacific, one has to pretend that each person__ gift is free and stands on its own. This brings us to potlatch as the __re-economy of the economy,_ its zero-level, that is, exchange as the reciprocal relation of two non-productive expenditures. If the gift belongs to Master and exchange to the Servant, potlatch is the paradoxical exchange between Masters. Potlach is simultaneously the zero-level of civility, the paradoxical point at which restrained civility and obscene consumption overlap, the point at which it is polite to behave impolitely.

Everyone might think Lizzie's an angel, but I knew better. She was selfish, and she was going to pay.

I don't mind having to die now, for I see that he is the cause of my death is about to share the same fate.

That he will haunt the footsteps of his enemy after death is the one revenge which a dying man can promise himself; and if men had power thus to avenge themselves the earth would be peopled with phantoms. ("Eveline's Visitant")