A Quote by Dian Fossey

The man who kills the animals today is the man who kills the people who get in his way tomorrow. — © Dian Fossey
The man who kills the animals today is the man who kills the people who get in his way tomorrow.
Man's destructive hand spares nothing that lives; he kills to feed himself, he kills to clothe himself, he kills to adorn himself, he kills to attack, he kills to defend himself, he kills to instruct himself, he kills to amuse himself, he kills for the sake of killing.
The man who kills a man kills a man. The man who kills himself kills all men. As far as he is concerned, he wipes out the world.
Not only is suicide a sin, it is the sin. It is the ultimate and absolute evil, the refusal to take an interest in existence; the refusal to take the oath of loyalty to life. The man who kills a man, kills a man. The man who kills himself, kills all men. As far as he is concerned he wipes out the world.
And yet on the other hand unless warinesse be us'd, as good almost kill a Man as kill a good Book; who kills a Man kills a reasonable creature, Gods Image, but hee who destroyes a good Booke, kills reason it selfe, kills the Image of God, as it were in the eye.
Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image, but thee who destroys a good book, kills reason its self.
One kills a man, one is an assassin; one kills millions, one is a conqueror; one kills everybody, one is a god.
Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
So then man tortures and kills millions more animals to look for cures for these diseases. Elsewhere, millions of other human beings are being killed by hunger and malnutrition because food they could eat is being used to fatten domestic animals. Meanwhile, some people are dying of sad laughter at the absurdity of man, who kills so easily and so violently, and once a year, sends out cards praying for Peace on Earth.
Of all the creatures that man kills for his amusement there is only one that he kills out of hatred—other men. Man hates nothing as much as himself. That is why war is called the leprosy of the human soul.
There are no limits. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.
If a parricide is more wicked than anyone who commits homicide-because he kills not merely a man but a near relative-without doubt worse still is he who kills himself, because there is none nearer to a man than himself.
Spiritual worldliness kills! It kills the soul! It kills the Church!
Charm is the great English blight. It does not exist outside these damp islands. It spots and kills anything it touches. It kills love; it kills art; I greatly fear, my dear Charles, it has killed you.
I know that the history of man is not his technical triumphs, his kills, his victories. It is a composite, a mosaic of a trillion pieces, the account of each man's accommodation with his conscience. This is the true history of the race.
I will find a way to you if it kills me if it kills me if it kills me (I think it might kill me).
That got me thinking. Bon Jovi kills in Jersey. Just kills. We did Atlantic City this past winter and man, you wouldn't believe the intensity in that crowd. Can I just talk for a minute about how amazingly hot Heather is?
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