There was a time when I liked a good riot. Put on some heavy old street clothes that could stand a bit of sidewalk-scraping, infect myself with something good and contageous, then go out and stamp on some cops. It was great, being nine years old.
- **** off. No family. No girlfriend. No friends. No love. No hope. No point. And Santa Claus is dead. I killed him. I killed him with THIS! *pointing at crotch*
- --Spider responding to a reporter's question about plans for the winter
- I'd kill everybody in this room. Even the children. Especially the children.