“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.”

Vengeance is Mine! (1950)

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Mickey Spillane59

American writer 1918–2006

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“I was thinking too damn much to be careful. When I stabbed my key in the lock and turned it there was a momentary catch in the tumblers before it went all the way around and I swore out loud as I rammed the door with my shoulder and hit the floor. Something swished through the air over my head and I caught an arm and pulled a squirming, fighting bundle of muscle down on top of me.
If I could have reached my rod I would have blown his guts out. His breath was in my face and I brought my knee up, but he jerked out of the way bringing his hand down again and my shoulder went numb after a split second of blinding pain. He tried again with one hand going for my throat, but I got one foot loose and kicked out and up and felt my toe smash onto his groin. The cramp of the pain doubled him over on top of me, his breath sucking in like a leaky tire.
Then I got cocky. I thought I had him. I went to get up and he moved. Just once. That thing in his hand smashed against the side of my head and I started to crumple up piece by piece until there wasn't anything left except the sense to see and hear enough to know that he had crawled out of the room and was falling down the stairs outside. Then I thought about the lock on my door and how I had a guy fix it so that I could tell if it had been jimmied open so I wouldn't step into any blind alleys without a gun in my hand, but because of a dame who lay naked and smiling on a bed I wouldn't share, I had forgotten all about it.”

Mickey Spillane book The Big Kill

The Big Kill (1951)

“He left no time to regret,
Kept his dick wet,
With his same old safe bet.
Me & my head high,
And my tears dry,
Get on without my guy.”

Amy Winehouse (1983–2011) English singer and songwriter

Back To Black
Song lyrics, Back To Black (2006)

“I held out my hand to his face, wiping away the tears from his eyes, tears that I savored from my fingers, thus knowing the taste of my life.”

Prevale (1983) Italian DJ and producer

Original: (it) Tesi la mano verso il suo volto asciugandole le lacrime dagli occhi, lacrime che assaporai dalle mie dita, conoscendo così, il sapore della mia vita.
Source: prevale.net