Justice might well prevail in the end, but ordinary people like me had no guarantee of surviving that long. We might get killed on the whim of some serial killer first.

Life is brief, young maiden, fall in love; before the crimson bloom fades from your lips, before the tides of passion cool within your hips, for those of you who know no tomorrow. (Gondola no Uta)

I am sorry for only two things. These two things are: I am sorry that I have mistreated some few animals in my life time and I am sorry that I am unable to murder the whole darned human race

Today he became a killer, or else a corpse.

A 22-caliber bullet can travel as fast as 1,022 mph. I learned that at Quantico.

However, the bullet that hit him probably traveled at 818 mph. Sound travels at 761 mph. I hear the bullet after I see the shot enter his head.

But in my mind it all goes so fast that it’s just a single message.

They will be given to justice. They have committed a murder, and let justice decide. Let the courts decide.