if the goddes can forgive her, can't we?" "I think there's a big difference between forgiving her and makin her into something she wasn't just because she's dead
When you really know somebody you can’t hate them. Or maybe it’s just that you can’t really know them until you stop hating them.
Twisted and perverse are the ways of the human mind," Jane intoned. "Pinocchio was such a dolt to try to become a real boy. He was much better off with a wooden head.
One of the problems with being a witch is when you ask the universe a question, it generally give you an answer.
We carry the dead with us only until we die too, and then it is we who are borne along for a little while, and then our bearers in their turn drop, and so on into the unimaginable generations.
Oh, we do not understand death, we never understand it; creatures are only truly dead when everyone else has died who knew them.
Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.
Brother Preptil, the master of the music, had described Brutha's voice as putting him in mind of a disappointed vulture arriving too late at the dead donkey.
We run to place and power over the dead bodies of those who fail and fall; ay, we win the food we eat from out the mouths of starving babes.
If your dreams and goals get derailed, they're not dead. Derailed simply means off-track. Pick 'em up and put 'em back on again.
And now he was dead, his soul fled down to the Sunless Country and his body lying cold in the cold mud, somewhere in the city's wake.
The conviction that everyone in this house must be dead had gained such a hold on Magnus that it was a shock when the woman who had summoned him here opened the door.
Strange how we decorate pain. These ribbons, for instance, and the small hard teardrops of blood. Who are they for? Do we think the dead care?
She already felt dead in everything but name. What remained to be taken from her? She longed to be enfolded, welcomed, into the earth - to breathe no more, love no more, hurt no more
Death and burial were a public spectacle. Shakespeare may have seen for himself the gravediggers at St Ann's, Soho, playing skittles with skulls and bones.
How I would enjoy being told the novel is dead. How liberating to work in the margins, outside a central perception. You are the ghoul of literature.
Lan shook his head sightly "He was better. But he thought I was finished, with only one arm. He never understood. You surrender after you're dead.
What," asked Mr Croup, "do you want?" "What," asked the Marquis de Carabas, a little more rhetorically, "does anyone want?" "Dead things," suggested Mr Vandemar. "Extra teeth.
The dead can be even more frustrating to deal with than are many of the living, which is astonishing when you consider it's the living who run the Department of Motor Vehicles.
The greatest importance of the Dead Sea Scrolls...lies in the discovery of biblical manuscripts dating back to only about 300 years after the close of the Old Testament canon.
She wanted to know if I loved her, so I texted her a picture of a dead bird.
