Quotes About Undead

Who the hell would attack the Steel Horse anyway? What was the thinking behind that? "Here is a bar full of psychotic killers who grow giant claws and people who pilot the undead for a living. I think I'll go wreck the place.

Derek favored his left side. His horse refused to bear him. I couldn't blame the horse. I wouldn't want his demonic, undead-blood-smeared, wolf-smelling ass riding me, either. But it made us slow.

I wouldn't want his demonic, undead-blood-smeared, wolf-smelling ass riding me either.

Whoa'' . . . Leonard started. Cuddles reared and tossed her head. The vamp slid on the glass and she dragged him left. ''Whoa'' . . . She dragged him right. ''Come on!'' Cuddles kept turning and rearing, her huge body going up and down, jerking the undead to and fro like a cheerleader with a pompom.

No. Not my circus, not my undead monkeys.

Taste the undead rainbow.

Not all librarians are evil cultists. Some librarians are instead vengeful undead who want to suck your soul.

I like to be nice. I want to be a hero. I want to save people. Or just kill zombies, because they deserve it, because they're already dead and they can't feel it. They don't have feelings.

If 180 million people want to be undead, that's their funeral, but I happen to like being alive.

It seems," the undead Tiste Edur said, "my Hounds have found new . . . pets." "Saw his head off, Cotillion," Shadowthrone said. "I hate him already.

Why is it," Mappo asked, "that Master Quell seemed indifferent to unleashing an undead dragon into this world?" "Well, hardly indifferent. He said 'oops!' At least, I think that's what I heard, but perhaps that was but my imagination.

Arrogance. A vice of being undead, Toc the Younger.

What makes me worse than any other corpse?' 'Other corpses don't fight back, for one thing.' The undead woman came closer. 'Why would I feel compelled to resist? Is she not simply making me pretty?' 'Of course. I was just making conversation. And how have you been, Shurq Elalle?' 'The same.' 'The same. Which is?' 'I've been better. Still, many would call consistency a virtue.

Ce mort-vivant a un corps qui est son propre corps. Il n'est ni mort, ni vivant mais vivant dans la mort. Il est une anomalie, un paria parmi les monstres.

Her estate's lawyer. "Is he…?" "Undead? Oh, yes. I never do business with daywalkers. Too temporary.

It's my husband. I think— I think he's a zombie." I smiled. "Believe it or not, I get this one a lot. Can you describe his behavior? Why do you think he's a zombie?" She huffed. "He doesn't do anything! He sits on the sofa all day watching TV and that's it.

You've reached Fantasia, where the undead live again every night, For bar hours, press one. To make a party reservation, press two. To talk to alive person or a dead vampire, press three. Or, if you were intending to leave a humorous prank message on our answering machine, know this: we will find you.

As exits go, that's a good one. It was pretty hard to have the last word with a vampire.

You've reached Fangtasia, where the undead live again every night...For bar hours, press one. To make a party reservation, press two. To talk to a live person or a dead vampire, press three. Or, if you were intending to leave a humorous prank message on our answering machine, know this: we will find you. -Pam

Los muertos enterrados no me daban miedo. Los vivos y los no muertos eran mucho más peligrosos.

I love Lady Stoneheart!

Yeah, okay. You're right. I was having dinner with Zombie Carl the other night. You know, steak, rare, and a bottle of vintage type A. He told me all his secrets, but too bad for you I promised him I wouldn't tell. In exchange I asked him to gather his best undead buddies and stalk me through my friend's yard. And oh, yeah, it was totally fine if they wanted to use me as an all-night-dinner buffet, because having organs is SO last year.

Well, the gentleman was a vampire," Vale agreed, "so it would fit certain scheming aspects of his character—even though one should probably not speak ill of the undead.

Six vampires came scuttling over the roof, in assorted colors of sunblock, like someone spilled a bag of Skittles. Taste the undead rainbow.