You couldn't put the gun in his hand. There was no [gun shot residue], no blood on the clothing  there was nothing.

I want to kill the president because I no like the capitalists. I have the gun in my hand, I kill kings and presidents first and next all capitalists.

I've never held a gun. I've never shot a gun. I don't ever want to do it again.

Something that sounded like an insect droned past Ralph’s ear. He had an idea it was a .45-caliber bug. Better hurry up, sweetheart, Carolyn advised. When bullets hit you on this level they kill you, remember?

They said he had a gun. No gun was ever found.

If most of us are ashamed of shabby clothes and shoddy furniture let us be more ashamed of shabby ideas and shoddy philosophies.... It would be a sad situation if the wrapper were better than the meat wrapped inside it.