Postal

"I regret nothing."

"Oh, did that hurt?"

"Let's blow something up."

"Only my weapon(s) understand(s) me."

"The Earth is hungry. Its heart throbs and demands cleansing. The Earth is also thirsty..."

"Blessed are the meek for they make easy targets."

"The air ripens with the odors of the dead and dying. It smells like...victory."

"A glorious symphony of slaughter! 76 tromboners led the death parade..."

"Life is cheap--death is free! Act now! Supplies are limited! (Offer void in Arizona)"

"Furious fireflies materialize against the cavern wall and sunder the earth into dust. Come, little insects, and see the web WE'VE woven!"

"I will don the eviscerated organs of my enemies as party hats, wear their shredded entrails as neckties, and oh, how I shall dance!"

"Human trash spills from its containers as death rains down upon them, sweeping the streets in a cleansing cloudburst of blood..."

"Next stop: Armageddon, the River Styx, Hades... and all points in between! All aboard!"

"Feathers will fly, but big birds won't. They WILL however, be going south this winter...FAR south!"

"Blood splinters everywhere. Like a river, flowing around me, pulling me in its wake. Paradise! Prepare for...deconstruction!"

"Black leather smoke coils up my nostrils tingling with death's surprise. Human remnants cling to my clothing like bloody briars as I continue to wade, hip deep in flesh, bone and viscera. Bad neighborhood coming up!"

"I am the celestial gardener, policing the planet of the stink weeds and poisons which leak out even through the cracks in the cold asphalt sidewalks of the City of Sin!"

"Keep your head, hands, arms, legs, and feet inside the ride at all times. You're bound to lose MORE today than just a few limbs!"

"No day in the park. Too much of the blood on me is mine. But the day is not done, and I've miles to go to make them sleep...Peanuts anyone?"

"Feast upon the frozen images of molten massacre as the machineries of death grind relentlessly, mindlessly on..."

"From the halls of the Vatican to the Runways of Truth, we are there. At the place called Climax, and the time called NOW. When it's done, let the gods sort it out!"

"The hive has been cleansed. The source of the corruption has been corked, laid in a body bag and dragged to the outskirts of existence..."

"Watch for falling prices, falling employees, falling customers, incoming missiles, and blood puddles..."

"The earth is thirsty. It also seems to have soiled itself..."

"The earth was hungry, so it ate some people."

"Did someone say they've fallen and can't get up?"

"Population pressure and the stress of modern life may cause an increase in violent tendencies. The urban environment is the incubator for all sorts of undesirable behaviors. However much this atrocity disgusts us, he may actually consider himself a hero. This is common among those who are referred to by the popular slang, going postal. In his tortured mind, he may feel he was battling against impossible odds. It is not unusual for some individuals to believe that the entire fate of the world rests in their palm. In the end, our subject displays all the classic symptoms of a paranoid delusional. We may never know exactly what set him off but, rest assured, we will have plenty of time to study him"