To be honest, the fact that I killed someone was not a surprise. In my life I decided to kill many times, refusing to think about the meaning of my act or its consequences. On one occasion or two I tried to do it in an explosion of anger, but or I had not found available weapons or the victim was able to get away. The idea of killing had never caused me a crisis of conscience. My system of values came from the jungle of the reformatory and jail. I had never heard anyone denounce the murder from a moral standpoint. Someone judged the violence something not so clever or stupid, but never wrong or evil. […]

I would have gone to war against society, or perhaps I would have only limited to restart hostilities. I did not feel any fear. I declared myself free from any rule, except those that I wanted to accept by myself. And even those I would have changed at will. I would have grabbed everything I wanted. I would have taken to be what I was, but with more determination. A criminal. […]

Edward Bunker

No Beast So Fierce, 1973

Oldcastle Books, 2012