Everything seems to work with a recurring rhythm except life. There is only one birth and only one death. Nothing else is like that.
My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!
Sometimes Death lurks after them for days, weeks, or even months, waiting for their time... Sometimes it doesn’t, and I’ve often raced that omnipresent Reaper to one portion of its work.
Mere words cannot defeat a true hero. Unless they happen to be the words to some sort of Instant Death Spell. Magic is scary.
War is being reminded that you are completely at the mercy of death at every moment, without the illusion that you are not. Without the distractions that make life worth living.
There is a certain right by which we many deprive a man of life, but none by which we may deprive him of death; this is mere cruelty.
I pronounce ye married, laird and lady. No’ ’til death will ye part. And now, Toran,” he added with a wink, “ye may kiss the bride.
Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look upon them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death.
Can there be anything more sad than a girl dying on the day of her first communion, in her new dress. A little bride of death...
The Ladies Buddenbrook from Breite Strasse did not weep, however - it was not their custom. Their faces, a little less caustic than usual at least, expressed a gentle satisfaction at death's impartiality.
Many have died; you also will die. The drum of death is being beaten. The world has fallen in love with a dream. Only sayings of the wise will remain.
You do not need God and Death as precursors to immortality. You need Life as a great fire, setting you and everything around you into a blaze.
Here, falling in love can be an event, a proclamation without acknowledging that everyone you love could die an awful death, that loving someone is an acceptance of impending loss.
The sign above the door was written in French. It read: ARRÊTE ! C’EST ICI L’EMPIRE DE LA MORT. “That means,” he explained to Gini, “‘Stop! It is here the Empire of Death.
Having made the decision to love, had I chosen life instead of death?
I wonder which is worse-the death, not knowing what comes after, or the wedding, when you think you know, but you're wrong.
Surely that was why faith had been invented: to raise teenagers without dying. Although of course it was also why death was invented: to escape teenagers altogether.
I thought if you knew. you'd kill him. I nearly did. I nearly killed you too. The trouble with death is - his lips twisted - it's so final.
And death doesn't wait for you when your rested and ready. It sneaks up on you when your exhausted and hungry and cold and so scared you can't even see straight
People who get up early in the morning cause war, death and famine.
Weave the circle, tightly sewn, Let nothing evil or unknown Enter within. Stay without On pain of death, we cast you out.
