Quotes About Dead

My lands are where my dead lie buried.

Could we get on with this? I have a case waiting." Annette's brows rose. "Jane, you and I both deal with the dead. You're a homicide detective—any case you have can just keep waiting. Not like the guy will get any deader.

Gideon squared his shoulders. "Does anyone have proof that Braden is dead?" "Actually…" A frown. "No." "Right. In that case, I think the sonofabitch may be stalking my lady.

This World" It appears that it was all a misunderstanding. What was only a trial run was taken seriously. The rivers will return to their beginnings. The wind will cease in its turning about. Trees instead of budding will tend to their roots. Old men will chase a ball, a glance in the mirror– They are children again. The dead will wake up, not comprehending. Till everything that happened has unhappened. What a relief! Breathe freely, you who have suffered much.

The World" It appears that it was all a misunderstanding. What was only a trial run was taken seriously. The rivers will return to their beginnings. The wind will cease in its turning about. Trees instead of budding will tend to their roots. Old men will chase a ball, a glance in the mirror– They are children again. The dead will wake up, not comprehending. Till everything that happened has unhappened. What a relief! Breathe freely, you who have suffered much.

The old division of Left versus Right is dead. In the Internet age, it's about citizens versus parliamentary relics.

The big debate right now is if Saddam is alive or dead. He's dead, then he's alive, then dead, then alive. It's just confusing. Today they showed videotape, and Saddam was speaking at his own funeral.

The Vietnam memorial is a masterpiece. The names of the dead are listed there, chronologically. Just the names.

Generosity of the dead. This states The big problem of poetry. Who could Speak for the buildings, for the future of the dead The dead who are implicated in all I can say? On this very beautiful surface Where I want to live

Romance is dead — it was acquired in a hostile takeover by Hallmark and Disney, homogenized, and sold off piece by piece.

The dead cannot cry out for justice; it is a duty of the living to do so for them.

Dawn dazzles on the dying and the dead.

Without question, his picture did not do him justice, but again, he was dead when it was taken

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors' imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

History isn't only a subject; it's also a method. My method is, generally, to let the dead speak for themselves. I've pressed their words between these pages, like flowers, for their beauty, or like insects, for their hideousness. The work of the historian is not the work of the critic or of the moralist; it is the work of the sleuth and the storyteller, the philosopher and the scientist, the keeper of tales, the sayer of sooth, the teller of truth.

He had no desire to take a walk down Memory Road either, especially when that road had ended in a spectacular crash with no survivors. Just the walking dead.

You promise not to fall for me, she said seriously. No matter how lovable I am? He wanted to smile at that but didn't want her to think he was making fun. She wanted his word, and he could give it easily enough, confident that as adorably sexy as she was, he could refrain from falling for her, since his heart felt dead in his chest. I promise.

Everyone is down on pain, because they forget something important about it: Pain is for the living. Only the dead don't feel it.

Where germs go? Sunrise, I said. Poof. Butter's voice sounded bewildered. Vampire germs? The tiny capes are a dead giveaway.

As far as I can tell, all cats [can see ghosts.] But they aren't terribly impressed with the fact that we're dead and still present. One rarely gets a reaction from them.

Grimm frowned. "Ah. Um. Am I in any danger?" "You're dead as a stone, man!" "I am?" "Yes. No, actually, not even remotely, but for purposes of this conversation, yes.

Harry Dresden—I take responsibility for more impossible situations in the first twenty-four hours of being dead than most people do all day.

Everyone is down on pain, because they forget something important about it: Pain is for the living. Only the dead don't feel it.

Lacuna adores me!" Toot shrilled. "We are comrades in arms," Lacuna said. "Then I will kill you." "It is love!" Toot insisted. "When you're dead," Lacuna said, "I get your teeth." Toot beamed broadly. "See? She loves me for me!