Westley: Why won't my arms move? Fezzik: You've been mostly-dead all day.
John Rooney: May you get to Heaven an hour before the Devil knows you're dead
Eli: Did I hit the dog? Chas: Yeah. Eli: Is he dead? Chas: Yeah. Eli: I need help.
[after the gun fires in the pub, proving Ed correct] Shaun: Okay. But dogs CAN look up!
[Philip is crouched beside the car, after being bitten by a zombie] Philip: You're not driving that car.
David: What are we going to eat? Dianne: Toasties! Ed: There's a Breville out back. David: Great. Saved by nibbles.
[Shaun and Ed are getting psyched-up to go to Shaun's mum's to kill Philip] Shaun: I gotta do a wee first.
Middle Jamal: [seeing the Taj Mahal] Is this heaven? Middle Salim: You're not dead Jamal. Middle Jamal: What is it? Some hotel?
We should be as careful of the books we read, as of the company we keep. The dead very often have more power than the living.
I know one thing: There are a billion Islamic people in the world today, and there will be about 2 billion by the time we're dead. They're not going to give up their religion.
One of the things I find in writing about people who are dead is that, after a short or long time, no matter how close the relationship was, they become like characters in fiction.
In the forensic science course I took at university they used photographs of dead bodies. For ballistics they showed us a guy lying on the floor, and his head had burst.
By a series of violent shocks, the nations in succession have struggled to shake off the Past, to reverse the action of Time and the verdict of success, and to rescue the world from the reign of the dead.
Who has suffered? The families of the dead, no doubt. But a greater loss was inflicted on Pakistan because, as I said, we lost the pillars of our society.
A faithful lifehacker would use technology to avoid dead time and move on to the entertaining, more gratifying activities as soon as possible.
I don't care much about politics. That kind of witchcraft I stay away from because people end up dead. I'd rather die for music.
In a way, it's my way of dealing with, finding closure with Grateful Dead music, and giving thanks in a way to Jerry and Bob and all the guys in the band for making up this wonderful music.
Hundreds and hundreds of the dead were so badly burned in the terrific heat generated by the bomb that it was not even possible to tell whether they were men or women, old or young.
I'd marry again if I found a man who had fifteen million dollars, would sign over half to me, and guarantee that he'd be dead within a year.
Otter: Ah, she broke our date. Boon: Washing her hair? Otter: Dead mother.
Villager: He isn't human. Frankenstein made him out of dead bodies.
