Best 72 quotes in «assassin quotes» category

There was some violence a year ago. An important kid got shot during an attempted kidnapping while on spring break in Mexico. The Fortune 500 went security crazy. Now rich kids like Jack need a commando team to take a dump.

The weapon of the advocate is the sword of the soldier, not the dagger of the assassin.

Those who work for the government are never men of their word. -Axel Chambers

They do not learn, fixed in their ways as they are. You are naïve to think otherwise. It’s an illness, Assassin, for which there is but one cure.’ ‘You’re wrong. And that’s why you must be put to rest.’ ‘Am I not unlike those precious books you seek to save? A source of knowledge with which you disagree? Yet you’re rather quick to steal my life.’ ‘A small sacrifice to save many. It is necessary.

They worried to an excessive degree about getting gender correct, as if elves gave a shit. Humans could keep their concerns about everyone’s genitalia to themselves.

What difference does it make whether you slay him or Horus slays him? He will be just as dead either way." Wakim pauses, apparently considering the matter, as if for the first time. "This thing is my mission, not his." he says at length. "He will be just as dead, either way," Vramin repeats. "But not by my hand." "True. But I fail to see the distinction." "So do I, for that matter. But it is I who have been charged with the task." "Perhaps Horus has also." "But not by my master." "Why should you have a master, Wakim? Why are you not your own man?" Wakim rubs his forehead. "I—do not—really know…. But I must do as I am told.

Villainessa Tittel was a hired killer, an assassin by trade. She had enjoyed the best education and had been trained by assassins who had (until then at least) been considered the best in the business. She had turned to ‘cleaning’ as an occupation because she really enjoyed endings more than beginnings – and anyway, she didn’t need to know her mark’s entire pedigree or life’s story, or to have some kind of facetious moral justification just to collect her fee. Unsurprisingly, when she did read – on those rare occasions – her books were always dog-eared from the back.

Who might you be?” she demanded. “A wretched lord of cacophony and sheer decibels? Or a ruthless assassin of harmony?

What if Cinderella had been sent to kill the prince?" - Kayden

Why is it that if a lord or a king sends you to kill a man, it's somehow noble? But if you do this for yourself, it's murder?

Women who go into the harem do not come out. It is a permanent position." [...] "I am not going in as a woman. I am going in as an assassin. So we have nothing to fear.

You can't escape an assasin," He leaned forward, shadows swallowing his eyes. "Hangings, bumbling bureaucrats, dishonest crewman, jail - those you can talk your way out of, you try hard enough. But this kind of death is the is the only kind of death.

You want to come back to the bank vault?” Jack says. The bank vault. That’s what Jack calls his house.

What is the truth?’ he asked. ‘We place faith in ourselves,’ replied Altaïr (...) ‘We see the world as it really is, and hope that one day all mankind might see the same.’ ‘What is the world, then?’ ‘An illusion,’ replied Altaïr. ‘One we can either submit to – as most do – or transcend.’ ‘And what is it to transcend?’ 'To recognize that laws arise not from divinity, but reason. I understand now that our Creed does not command us to be free.’ And suddenly he really did understand. ‘It commands us to be wise

You could put the sass into assassin

You know that when ex-military personnel start assassinating their own government's agents that something funky is going on.

Assassins take no pride in fighting fairly. We take pride in winning.

A man feared that he might find an assassin; Another that he might find a victim. One was more wise than the other.

A short while later, as I stare down at the bodies of the six men I have just killed, I cannot help but wonder: Do I love killing? Of a certainty, I love the way my body and weapons move as one; I revel in the knowledge of where to strike for maximum impact. And of a certainty, I am good at it.

Assassins: they got sass and live on sin.

Es un shock bastante grande darse cuenta de que las únicas personas con las que te puedes identificar son asesinos psicópatas.

Being an assassin means knowing when to kill - and when not to kill.

By God, you Assassins are a cheery bunch, eh? All frowns and furrowed brows.” He glared at me. “Captain Kenway. You have remarkable skill.” “Ah, thanks, mate. It comes natural.

C'etait un jour de fete. Mais l'haine se repete. Laissez pas la peur dominer le coeur, Si on veut que l'amour soit vainqueur

Breaking into the building was easy. Too easy for an assassin like me.

Can you be an assassin without killing anyone?" Onora shot her an odd look. "I ... don't know. I don't think so." "Is there a name for people who have those skills?" Mara asked. "Yes. Dangerous," I said. Mara rubbed her hands together as a gleam lit her eyes. "Oh, I like that. I want to be dangerous.

Dr. Talbon was struck by another very important thing. It all hung together. The stories Cheryl told — even though it was upsetting to think people could do stuff like that — they were not disjointed They were not repetitive in terms of "I've heard this before". It was not just she'd someone trying consciously or unconsciously to get attention. really processed them out and was done with them. She didn't come up with them again [after telling the story once and dealing with it]. Once it was done, it was done. And I think that was probably the biggest factor for me in her believability. I got no sense that she was using these stories to make herself a really interesting person to me so I'd really want to work with her, or something. Or that she was just living in this stuff like it was her life. Once she dealt with it and processed it, it was gone. We just went on to other things. 'Throughout the whole thing, emotionally Cheryl was getting her life together. Parts of her were integrating where she could say,"I have a sense that some particular alter has folded in with some basic alter", and she didn't bring it up again. She didn't say that this alter has reappeared to cause more problems. That just didn't happen. The therapist had learned from training and experience that when real integration occurs, it is permanent and the patient moves on.

Fine, it’s decided.” Vain resumed his stride. “I’ll do all the killing, and you do all the stuff that an Avun-Riah does. Whatever the hell that is.

Fear is an assassin; if you let it in your life, it will kill your dreams.

For me, the worst sin is hypocrisy. The sinner is not the assassin. The sinner's the bastard who hires the assassin.

He loved his job, which allowed time to do it without comparing his performance to others'. He loved the economics of death: hastening a person's passage into the afterlife not only provided him with a good living: it gave work to coroners, beat cops, detectives, crime scene technicians, the people who made fingerprint powder and luminal and other sundry chemicals and devices - not to mention firearm, ammunition, coffin, and tissue manufacturers - obituary writers, crime reporters, novelists.

He dropped the phone back onto its cradle, began to turn around and felt a sudden ice-cold furrow open up in his side. Strength drained from his legs, and a moment later he sank to his knees. There was warmth now that ran over the initial and persistent cold. Mohammed was confused, and barely noticed the briefcase being removed from his grip. He heard the click of a cell phone opening, and a soft beeping as a number was dialed. 'The package is in my possession,' a female voice said, and the phone clicked shut.

He pauses then, studying me. “How would you have done it?” His question surprises me. “You mean how would I have killed you?” “Yes. Do you have a favorite method for such things?” Since he knows I am an assassin, there is no need to be coy. “I prefer a garrote. I like the intimacy it allows me when I whisper reminders of vengeance in their ears as they die. But in your case, I had sharpened my favorite knife especially for the occasion.” His brows quirk up. “Why no garrote for me?” I look pointedly at his thick neck, bulging with muscle and sinew. “I do not have one big enough,” I mutter.

Her lungs, like moldering cheesecloth sacks, hung visible between cracked and yellowing ribs. Her internal organs, long absent, only flaked brown gristle clung to her spine. Sparse clumps of pale hair clung to the few shreds of flesh still gripping her skull. Five other Cotardist assassins stood mutely behind her. Though none looked to be such an advanced state of decay, they all showed signs of rot and neglect.

Her bare feet whispered across the floor as she approached him with the sort of stealth that only small children and trained killers possess.

If they were going to kill you, would they knock?

I am a blade of silver, a sickle of ice - Assassin Ghe, old assassin mantra

- If it helps, I used to have a hard time knowing what to do around other people so I watched them and learned to mimic them. If you don't have to be on point, I would interact the minimal amount. If you don't interact at all, people notice and you stand out, and if you're socially awkward and interact too much, people notice too much, people notice that too. But if you speak up now and then in a conversation, of infrequently agree to hang out, poeple will lose interest. It might be harder for you, but that's one thing that works for me." "- Lfe was easier when I was just expected to shoot people.

If we cannot defeat the assassin, then we must remove his reason for attacking. If we can capture or eliminate his employers, then perhaps we can invalidate whatever contract binds him. Last we knew, he was employed by the Parshendi.” “Great,” Ruthar said dryly. “All we have to do is win the war, which we’ve only been trying to do for five years.

It would be either a very skilled or very unwise man to steal from an assassin.” - Taliesin

I’m not in the torturing business, but I am in the monster-killing business.

In my unfortunately infrequent encounters with real passion, I'm rarely as careful as I ought to be. The rationalization goes something like: With all the bullets and mortar rounds I've survived, I must be immune to sexually transmitted diseases. Stupid, I know. More likely, fate will indulge its taste for irony by killing me with AIDS os some other unpleasant alternative.

It's the secrecy surrounding drone strikes that's most troubling. . . We don't know the targeting criteria, or whether the rules for CIA and military drone strikes differ; we don't know the details of the internal process through which targets are vetted; we don't know the chain of command, or the details of congressional oversight. The United States does not release the names of those killed, or the location or number of strikes, making it impossible to know whether those killed were legitimately viewed as combatants or not. We also don't know the cost of the secret war: How much money has been spent on drone strikes? What's the budget for the related targeting and intelligence infrastructures? How is the government assessing the costs and benefits of counterterrorism drone strikes? That's a lot of secrecy for a targeted killing program that has reportedly caused the deaths of several thousand people. (117-118)

I killed the President because he was the enemy of the good people-the good working people. I am not sorry for my crime. I am sorry I could not see my father.

I remember having an argument with Alan, I said the Queen's not just going to call the guy up and send him out to do it. And Alan says, well, how would a monarch give orders to her assassin.

I think in the corridors of power these dangerous kinds of orders are issued in a much more vague way, passed down two or three levels of command before they're given to the assassin.

I’ve always wondered though,” Orn mused aloud, “what does God need with a starship?” “Are you going to make that stupid quip every time we pass a missionary ship?” “Until they learn a new position.

«Mamá, papá, lo he conseguido, ya he visto lo que es real en mí.He alcanzado a consciencia cada uno de mis sueños, lo he logrado... ya soy... el asesino de mis pesadillas.» Ergon.

I will get your some clothes, a sword, and your very own assassin to join you on your quest." "Ooh, just what I've always wanted. A man whose job title had the word ass in it not once, but two times.

Miho. You're an angel. You're a saint. You're a blessing from above. You're Mother Theresa. You're God.