Shooting Quotes

Quotes tagged as "shooting" Showing 1-30 of 96
Holly Black
“He looks up at me with his night-colored eyes, beautiful and terrible all at once. “For a moment,” he says, “I wondered if it wasn’t you shooting bolts at me.”

I make a face at him. “And what made you decide it wasn’t?”

He grins up at me. “They missed.”
Holly Black, The Wicked King

The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at
“The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at the right or wrong end of the gun.”
P.G. Wodehouse, The Adventures of Sally

Mira Grant
“Nothing is impossible to kill. It's just that sometimes after you kill something you have to keep shooting it until it stops moving”
Mira Grant, Feed

John Scalzi
Do not mourn me, friends
I fall as a shooting star
Into the next life

John Scalzi, Old Man's War

Katja Michael
“No, you don't shoot things. You capture them. Photography means painting with light. And that's what you do. You paint a picture only by adding light to the things you see.”
Katja Michael

John le Carré
“Everyone who is not happy must be shot.”
John le Carré, The Little Drummer Girl

Brandon Sanderson
“It’s what happens when you shoot someone,” Wayne pointed out. “At least, usually someone has the good sense to get dead when you go to all the trouble to shoot them.”
Brandon Sanderson, The Alloy of Law

Obert Skye
“Stupid deer," I said, embarrassed about being startled. "We need a ladder."

"I think they're easier to shoot with a rifle."

"I'm not talking about the deer," I said, hitting Milo on the back of his shoulder. "We need a ladder to look over the wall."

"Or a catapult," Milo said seriously.”
Obert Skye, Pillage

Howard Tayler
“I'm a disgruntled ex-civil servant, and I'm armed. If you don't process my license right now I'm going to start making small, yet significant holes in people.”
Howard Tayler, The Tub of Happiness

Ernest Hemingway
“Now standing in one corner of a boxing ring with a .22 caliber Colt automatic pistol, shooting a bullet weighing only 40 grains and with a striking energy of 51 foot pounds at 25 feet from the muzzle, I will guarantee to kill either Gene Tunney or Joe Louis before they get to me from the opposite corner. This is the smallest caliber pistol cartridge made; but it is also one of the most accurate and easy to hit with, since the pistol has no recoil. I have killed many horses with it, cripples and bear baits, with a single shot, and what will kill a horse will kill a man. I have hit six dueling silhouettes in the head with it at regulation distance in five seconds. It was this type of pistol that Millen boys’ colleague, Abe Faber, did all his killings with. Yet this same pistol bullet fired at point blank range will not dent a grizzly’s skull, and to shoot a grizzly with a .22 caliber pistol would simply be one way of committing suicide”
Ernest Hemingway, Hemingway on Hunting

“...when one considers that there are more than 750,000 police officers in the United States and that these officers have tens of millions of interactions with citizens each year, it is clear that police shootings are extremely rare events and that few officers--less than one-half of 1 percent each year--ever shoot anyone.”
David Klinger, Into the Kill Zone: A Cop's Eye View of Deadly Force

Jeff Mach
“The farther removed you are from people actually shooting at you, the more you forget that cannons can do something to you other than fire salutes.”
Jeff Mach, "I Hate Your Time Machine": A fiction-fueled guide to some of the worst tropes of Fantasy & Science Fiction

Edwin Muir
“The Hotel dining-room, like most of the others I was to find in the Highlands, had its walls covered with pictures of all sorts of wild game, living or in the various postures of death that are produced by sport. Between these pictures the walls were alert with the stuffed heads of deer, furnished with antlers of every degree of magnificence. A friend of mine has a theory that these pictures of dying birds and wounded beasts are intended to whet the diner's appetite, and perhaps they did in the more lusty age of Victoria; but I found they had the opposite effect on me, and had to keep my eyes from straying too often to them. In one particular hotel this idea was carried out with such thoroughness that the walls of its dining room looked like a shambles, they presented such an overwhelming array of bleeding birds, beasts and fishes. To find these abominations on the walls of Highland hotels, among a people of such delicacy in other things, is peculiarly revolting, and rubs in with superfluous force that this is a land whose main contemporary industry is the shooting down of wild creatures; not production of any kind but wholesale destruction. This state of things is not the fault of the Highlanders, but of the people who have bought their country and come to it chiefly to kill various forms of life.”
Edwin Muir, Scottish Journey

“The big man jerked Jason to an upright position. “You shot me, mister. Now you pay.” He placed a bearpaw over Jason’s face and smashed his head into a tree, hard enough not to kill, but with enough force to knock him senseless. Then he broke each of Jason’s fingers, one at a time. For good measure he squeezed each of the Director’s hands until he could feel small bones crunching.”
John M Vermillion, Packfire

Deeanne Gist
“Drew had never before shot like he did that day, nor has he since. It was something to see. The contest had just begun when he walked up, aimed, and felled a cluster from the very top of the boughs.”
Deeanne Gist, A Bride Most Begrudging

Julie Berry
“Spent casings lay scattered like birdseed at his feet. It felt like a horse had kicked his shoulder. But his pulse thrummed. He liked shooting.”
Julie Berry, Lovely War

“Guns don't kill people. Gun owners kill people.”
Oliver Markus Malloy, Inside The Mind of an Introvert

Stephen King
“I do not shoot with my hand,'" Eddie said. He suddenly felt far away, strange to himself. It was the way he'd felt when he had seen first the slingshot and then the key in pieces of wood, just waiting for him to whittle them free ... and at the same time this feeling was not like that at all.
Roland was looking at him oddly. "Yes, Eddie, you say true. A gunslinger shoots with his mind. What have you thought of?"
"Nothing." He might have said more, but all at once a strange image-a strange memory-intervened: Roland hunkering by Jake at one of their stopping-points on the way to Lud. Both of them in front of an unlit campfire. Roland once more at his everlasting lessons. Jake's turn this time. Jake with the flint and steel, trying to quicken the fire. Spark after spark licking out and dying in the dark. And Roland had said that he was being silly. That he was just being ... well ... silly.
"No," Eddie said. "He didn't say that at all. At least not to the kid, he didn't."
"Eddie?" Susannah. Sounding concerned. Almost frightened.
Well why don't you ask him what he said, bro? That was Henry's voice, the voice of the Great Sage and Eminent Junkie. First time in a long time. Ask him, he's practically sitting right next to you, go on and ask him what he said. Quit dancing around like a baby with a load in his diapers.
Except that was a bad idea, because that wasn't the way things worked in Roland's world. In Roland's world everything was riddles, you didn't shoot with your hand but with your mind, your motherfucking mind, and what did you say to someone who wasn't getting the spark into the kindling? Move your flint in closer, of course, and that's what Roland had said: Move your flint in closer, and hold it steady.
Except none of that was what this was about. It was close, yes, but close only counts in horseshoes, as Henry Dean had been wont to say before he became the Great Sage and Eminent Junkie. Eddie's memory was jinking a little because Roland had embarrassed him ... shamed him ... made a joke at his expense ...
Probably not on purpose, but ... something. Something that had made him feel the way Henry always used to make him feel, of course it was, why else would Henry be here after such a long absence?”
Stephen King, Wizard and Glass

William Nack
“A few years ago, Kobe [Bryant, duh] fractured the fourth metacarpal bone in his right hand. He missed the first fifteen games of the season; he used the opportunity to learn to shoot jump shots with his left, which he has been known to do in games. While it was healing, the ring finger, the one adjacent to the break, spend a lot of time taped to his pinkie. In the end, Kobe discovered, his four fingers were no longer evenly spaced; now they were separated, two and two. As a result, his touch on the ball was different, his shooting percentage went down. Studying the film he noticed that his shots were rotating slightly to the right.
To correct the flaw, Kobe went to the gym over the summer and made one hundred thousand shots. that's one hundred thousand made, not taken. He doesn't practice taking shots, he explains. He practices making them. If you're clear on the difference between the two ideas, you can start drawing a bead on Kobe Bryant who may well be one of the most misunderstood figures in sports today.

Scito Hoc Super Omnia by Mike Sager for Esquire Magazine Nov 2007”
William Nack, The Best American Sports Writing 2008

“Don't shoot your shot, without testing your aim”
Henry Joseph-Grant

Craig D. Lounsbrough
“Living a life of greed is something akin to shooting a gun while holding it backwards. And it would behoove us to remember that greed is an excellent marksman.”
Craig D. Lounsbrough

Steven Magee
“The USA is no longer the home of free speech.”
Steven Magee

Steven Magee
“Free speech is a fond memory of the past in the USA.”
Steven Magee

Steven Magee
“The police ultimately pay the price for poor customer service when armed citizens start shooting them.”
Steven Magee

“Then let me ask you this—why do you think Bill singled out JBD after murdering his own girlfriend?”
Caleb Pinkerton, The Suicide Journal

“I guess I’m just wondering what the difference is between a guy like Bill and a guy like me. Maybe not that much, ya know? We both went to the same school and were taught by the same teachers and went to the same church.”
Caleb Pinkerton, The Suicide Journal

“I’ve lost a friend for reasons I don’t understand.” I raised my hand for effect. “Yes, my hand is healing, but I still can’t sleep at night. Do you have any idea how hard it is to fall asleep when you are in pain and all you can see is your friend dying while you sit there and do nothing?”
Caleb Pinkerton, The Suicide Journal

Bob Hobbs
“We can't just shoot them, these are our fellow citizens”
Bob Hobbs, Preparedness 101: A Zombie Pandemic

Maria Karvouni
“It is like they have put into your brain something that makes you
think bad thoughts. I highly doubt that the labeled as mentally "ill"
have it as inherent in their dna. They may have been manipulated
from some secret gun.”
Maria Karvouni, Reality Is Just A Possible Fantasy

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