59 Police Quotes

Citizens who take it upon themselves to do unusual actions which attract the attention of the police should be careful to bring these actions into one of the recognized categories of crimes and offences, for it is intolerable that the police should be put to the pains of inventing reasons for finding them undesirable.

Most middle-class whites have no idea what it feels like to be subjected to police who are routinely suspicious, rude, belligerent, and brutal.

It is not better that all felony suspects die than that they escape. Where the suspect poses no immediate threat to the officer and no threat to others, the harm resulting from failing to apprehend him does not justify the use of deadly force to do so. It is no doubt unfortunate when a suspect who is in sight escapes, but the fact that the police arrive a little late or are a little slower afoot does not always justify killing the suspect.

There is no requirement that police stop a person who enters a police station and states that he wishes to confess a crime or a person who calls the police to offer a confession because volunteered statements of any kind are not barred by the 5th Amendment.

I've enjoyed the accommodations offered by police departments from Florida to Hawaii. Any time I saw a badge, something in me would snap.

The main political problem is how to prevent the police power from becoming tyrannical. This is the meaning of all the struggles for liberty.

All this talk: the state should do this or that, ultimately means: the police should force consumers to behave otherwise than they would behave spontaneously.

There is a huge body of evidence to support the notion that me and the police were put on this earth to do extremely different things and never to mingle professionally with each other, except at official functions, when we all wear ties and drink heavily and whoop it up like the natural, good-humored wild boys that we know in our hearts that we are..These occasions are rare, but they happen - despite the forked tongue of fate that has put us forever on different paths...

When an individual is taken into custody or otherwise deprived of his freedom by the authorities and is subjected to questioning...he must be warned prior to any questioning that he has the right to remain silent, that anything he says can be used against him in a court of law, that he has the right to the presence of an attorney, and that if he cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for him prior to any questioning if he so desires.

I have no particular love for the idealised 'worker' as he appears in the bourgeois Communist's mind, but when I see an actual flesh-and-blood worker in conflict with his natural enemy, the policeman, I do not have to ask myself which side I am on.

A cop stopped me for speeding. He said, 'Why were you going so fast?' I said, 'See this thing my foot is on? It's called an accelerator. When you push down on it, it sends more gas to the engine. The whole car just takes right off. And see this thing? This steers it.'

He who rejects the entire past, without keeping any part of it which could serve to breathe life into the revolution, condemns himself to finding justification only in the future and, in the meantime, to entrusting the police with the task of justifying the provisional state of affairs... The future is the only transcendental value for men without God.

The other night I came home late, and tried to unlock my apartment door with my car keys. So the building started up... So, I drove it around for a while. I guess I was speeding, and a cop pulled me over. He asked me where I lived. I said, 'right here, officer.' Later, I parked it on the freeway, got out, and yelled at all the cars, 'Get out of my driveway!'

I want to say 'I shot the police' but the government would have made a fuss so I said 'I shot the sheriff' instead... but it's the same idea: justice.

'Thats that whole police brutality thing. See thats common knowledge now. There used to be a time when only minorities really knew about that. Now I'm not saying white people didn't believe us, but you were a little skeptical. Then the NewsWeek printed it and you knew it was true. 'Oh my god...Honey did you see this? Aparently, the police have been beating up Negros like hot cakes!' Really though, how could you know? I mean you should have been a little suspicious. Don't you think its a little suspicious...that every dead black person the police find has crack sprinkled on him? I mean come on. Who gets shot and then sprinkles crack on themselves?'

A security chief who was of the impression that the policing functions of his Gestapo and SD were somewhat on the order of directing traffic.

If my car should be in such a position where I can't quite see what's going on, can't get a good enough look, I'm not the least bit shy about asking the police to bring the bodies over a little closer to the car. 'Pardon me, officer, would you mind dragging that twisted-looking chap over here a little closer to the car, please? My wife has never seen anyone shaped quite like that. Look at that, Sugar Lips! That's his ribcage sticking out the glove compartment. That will be all, officer. You can throw him back on the pile.'

The statuette, idol, fetish, or whatever it was, had been captured some months before in the wooded swamps south of New Orleans during a raid on a supposed voodoo meeting; and so singular and hideous were the rites connected with it, that the police could not but realise that they had stumbled on a dark cult totally unknown to them, and infinitely more diabolic than even the blackest of the African voodoo circles. Of its origin, apart from the erratic and unbelievable tales extorted from the captured members, absolutely nothing was to be discovered; hence the anxiety of the police for any antiquarian lore which might help them to place the frightful symbol, and through it track down the cult to its fountain-head.

Truscott: And you complain you were beaten? Dennis: Yes. Truscott: Did you tell anyone? Dennis: Yes. Truscott: Who? Dennis: The officer in charge. Truscott: What did he say? Dennis: Nothing. Truscott: Why not? Dennis: He was out of breath with kicking.

Truscott: Do you realize what I'm doing here? McLeavy: No. Your every action has been a mystery to me. Truscott: That is as it should be. The process by which the police arrive at the solution to a mystery is, in itself, a mystery.

Fay: I'm innocent till I'm proved guilty. This is a free country. The law is impartial. Truscott: Who's been filling your head with that rubbish? Fay: I can't be had for anything. You've no proof. Truscott: When I make out my report I shall say you've given me a confession. It could prejudice your case if I have to forge one.

Truscott: You're fucking nicked, my old beauty. You've found to your cost that the standards of the British police force are as high as ever. McLeavy: What am I charged with? Truscott: That needn't concern you for the moment. We'll fill in the details later. McLeavy: You can't do this. I've always been a law-abiding citizen. The police are for the protection of ordinary people. Truscott: I don't know where you pick up these slogans, sir. You must read them on hoardings.

'There were two instances where the police were called for whatever reason to my old house and they sold the story, telling lies. The police were responding to phone calls that happened, but they were then coming out and creating an atmosphere, a drama, when actually nothing had happened; there were no charges pressed. But that's the High Court and then the police selling stories, so how are you going to live in a country and feel safe?'

The cops aren't exactly dumb, you know. We can get our own answers. Not like I can. That's why you buzzed me so fast. You can figure things out as quickly as I can, but you haven't got the ways and means of doing the dirty work. That's where I come in. You'll be right behind me every inch of the way, but when the pinch comes I'll get shoved aside and you slap the cuffs on. That is, if you can shove me aside. I don't think you can.

The guy was dead as hell. He lay on the floor in his pajamas with his brains scattered all over the rug and my gun was in his hand. I kept rubbing my face to wipe out the fuzz that clouded my mind but the cops wouldn't let me. One would pull my hand away and shout a question at me that made my head ache even worse and another would slap me with a wet rag until I felt like I had been split wide open.

Sometimes I feel really guilty complaining about it because there are some amazing things happening around me but the darkness has prevailed, to be honest, in extremis. Yesterday, man, I went to buy a pint of milk and I got stopped in the street and searched. They found a crumb of rock in the lining of my coat that I didn't even know was there and I spent all day in fucking Charing Cross [police] station. They're taking the piss, mate.

I got my driver's license photo taken out of focus on purpose. Now when I get pulled over the cop looks at it (moving it nearer and farther, trying to see it clearly)...and says, 'Here, you can go.'

Oh dear, I'm feeling political today. It's just that it's dawned on me that 'zero tolerance' only seems to mean putting extra police in poor, run-down areas, and not in the Stock Exchange.

Personally I wish the police had truncheoned the English fans to death, but I can't really say that on the record.

Wes Clark has been a superb battalion commander and will be a superb brigade commander. He is an officer of the rarest potential and will clearly rise to senior general officer rank. He will be one of the Army's leaders in the 1990's.

(When asked by Johnny Carson what he liked most about living in the United States versus living in Russia.) 'Warning shots. In the U.S. the police shoot in the air - in Russia they shoot straight ahead, that's warning for the next guy.'

'He has the nerve to call us violent when last year there were 80,000 cases of police brutality filed against departments all over the country this sheriff pig is poppin' off, poppin'off about how we're violent. Well, shit, he belongs to the most violent gang in US history.' [Referring to a Sheriff who tried to get a concert banned]

It says, 'I'm a victim for real. Everything I talk is for real. I really got my ass beat. I really don't like them... I really don't like crooked police. -Tupac

Cops give a damn about a negro/pull the trigger kill a nigga, he's a hero

And still I see no changes can't a brother get a little peace/It's war on the streets & the war in the Middle East/Instead of war on poverty they got a war on drugs/so the police can bother me

My murderous lyrics equipped with spirits of the Thugs before me/Pay off the block evade the cops cause I know they comin for me

No more hesitation each and every black male's trapped/And they wonder why we suicidal runnin round strapped/Mista, Po-lice, please try to see that it's a million motherfuckers stressin just like me

Tired of being trapped in this vicious cycle/If one more cop harrasses me I just might go psycho

God damn it's a motherfuckin riot/Black people only hate police so don't try it/If you're not from the town then don't pass through

When they ask me, when will the violence cease?/When your troops stop shootin niggaz down in the street

[At the Grand Olympic Auditorium, September 13 2000 - the last RATM show before their 2007 reunion] 'So who went out and joined us for the Democratic National Convention? I've never seen so many fucking cops in my whole life. It's like everybody knows when everybody went out there, the only thing we were out there to do is express how much we hate both the Democrats and Republicans because they sold this fucking country out. And by expressing our rights to resist, what do they do?...they open fire on the crowd. I don't care what fucking television station said the violence was caused by the people at the concert, those motherfuckers unloaded on this crowd. And I think it's ridiculous, considering none of us had rubber bullets, none of us had M16s, none of us had billy clubs, none of us had face shields. All we had was our fists, our voices, our microphones, our guitars, our drums, and anytime we get beaten in the streets for protesting, we take it to the court system, and the court system don't wanna hear it. Look what happened to Amadou Diallo in New York, they shot that brother 41 times and let all four officers go. It's time for a new type of action in this country.'

(On kids' Halloween police costumes) Its dark. Its night. You see lights. They bounce off the badge. You think its for real. They wear the hat that looks just like the kind on 'Car 54, Where Are You?' or whatever and the black pants...this is what I'm afraid of.

The workers aren't going to stop struggling. They're going to struggle to have a union and they have the right to have it. The police repression and the grower indifference to the workers' demands for recognition cannot go unheard so we're going to keep on struggling until we get that recognition.

The police can't stop an intruder, mugger, or stalker from hurting you. They can pursue him only after he has hurt or killed you. Protecting yourself from harm is your responsibility, and you are far less likely to be hurt in a neighborhood of gun-owners than in one of disarmed citizens - even if you don't own a gun yourself.

He was tall, blond and handsome, every inch the dashing half-Polish cavalry officer.

The cop climbed out of his car exactly four minutes before he got shot. He moved like he knew his fate in advance.

So you think the police foresees and knows everything. The police invents more than it discovers.

'Don't blame me, Pongo,' said Lord Ickenham, 'if Lady Constance takes her lorgnette to you. God bless my soul, though, you can't compare the lorgnettes of today with the ones I used to know as a boy. I remember walking one day on Grosvenor Square with my aunt Brenda and her pug dog Jabberwocky, and a policeman came up and said the latter ought to be wearing a muzzle. My aunt made no verbal reply. She merely whipped her lorgnette from its holder and looked at the man, who gave one choking gasp and fell back against the railings, starting eyes as if he had seen some dreadful sight. A doctor was sent for, and they managed to bring him round, but he was never the same again. He had to leave the Force, and eventually drifted into the grocery business. And that is how Sir Thomas Lipton got his start.'

The policeman isn't there to create disorder; the policeman is there to preserve disorder.

I have conferred with the superintendent of police this morning and I gave him instructions that an order be issued by him immediately and under his signature to shoot to kill any arsonist or anyone with a molotov cocktail in his hand.

I got to see, while I was over there [England] footage of the Rodney King trial, which I had never seen while I was here. I saw footage over there of the Rodney King trial. I think I figured out why the L.A. riots occurred. Did you guys see these cops testifying, man? Did these guys have balls or what, man? These guys carry their balls in a wheelbarrow, man. ''Scuse me, 'scuse me. Man with big balls is here to testify.' 'Place your right testicle on the bible.' Whishh BOOOM. This guy, Officer Coon : is life too fucking weird or what? Officer Coon looks in the camera and actually says: 'Oh, that Rodney King beating tape, it's all in how you look at it.' The courtroom murmurs: 'Jesus, what balls. I've never seen balls of this magnitude. He must have a specially fitted uniform in which to place these large testicles.' 'That's incredible. All in how you look at it, Officer Coon?' 'That's right. It's how you look at the tape.' 'Well would you care to tell the court how you're looking at that?' 'Yeah, okay, sure. It's how you look at it. For instance, well, if you play it backwards, you see us help King up and send him on his way.' 'Mmm . . . not guilty.' ''Scuse me, 'scuse me. Man with big balls has just been acquitted.'