You'll have time to rest when you're dead.
I'll sleep when I'm dead.
Napolean is dead - but Beethoven lives.
Eve: “If you ended up naked and dead with another woman, I'd do the Rumba on your corpse.” Roarke: “You can't do the Rumba.” Eve: “I'd take lessons first.” Roarke: “You might very well. Not that you'll ever get the chance, but you'd als...
I ate the end of my piece of cheese and took a swallow of wine. Through the other noise I heard a cough, then came the chuh-chuh-chuh-chuh--then there was a flash, as when a blast-furnace door is swung open, and a roar that started white and went rea...
Also another time she had wakened in dead of night, thinking that something touched her, and when she looked she saw that a black scaly tail, tufted with flame at the end, like a fiend's, had switched across her and lay there burning the covers. And ...
As for the temperature of Hell, Miss Gray,” he said, “let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who’s trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs.” He...
What scared Stanley the most about dying wasn't his actual death. He figured he could handle the pain. It wouldn't be much worse than what he felt now. In fact, maybe at the moment of his death he would be too weak to feel pain. Death would be a reli...
[Quaid points a gun at Dr. Edgemar's head] Douglas Quaid: All right, let's say you're telling the truth and this is all a dream. I could pull this trigger and it won't matter. Dr. Edgemar: It won't make the slightest difference to me Doug, but the co...
Then, already, it had brought to his mind the silence brooding over beds in which he had let men die. There as here it was the same solemn pause, the lull that follows battle; it was the silence of defeat. But the silence now enveloping his dead frie...
The monster, Hitler, died like Uther, frightened, hiding, haunted by his crimes and his wholly reasonable belief that all decent human beings would turn their backs on him. Who really cares where Hitler’s bones lie, or how he died, as long as he is...
All readers have reading in common.
My fear of the future, she says, has not yet failed.
If something wants to be a story, it will be.
...love is suffering - that's the happy ending...
Real lives have no end. Real books have no end.
I just knew. There was no movie ending. There was only an ending.
In the end, the world returns to a grain.
I think I learned pretty early that in the end, it's only you. To an extent, you're all alone.
Romance can end, but I don't think art really ends, as romantic as that might sound.
Life isn't a book. There's no guarantee of a happy ending.
