Best 58 quotes in «undead quotes» category

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    Immortality was overrated, as far as he was concerned. Hardy had enough problems as it was; living forever sounded like a death sentence for someone with his practical sensibilities.

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    I never imagined being undead would be so much work,” Jeff lamented. “Being a ‘vampire’ takes no work at all,” Timothy emphasized vampire. “It’s surviving that takes all the work.

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    I loved Granny Belmonte, but she didn't need a costume to look undead.

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    Isabelle! he called again. Let down your raven hair. Oh, my God, Clary muttered. There was something in that blood Raphael gave you, wasn't there? I'm going to kill him. He's already dead, Simon observed. He's undead. Obviously he can still die, you know, again. I'll re-kill him.

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    I saw thousands of them. A sea of the dead that roared like an ocean! You would have heard them screaming toward you. It would have taken days to steer them away. Killing them? I don't think killing them would have been possible.

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    I thought you hated wizards,” I said. “I do.” He kissed me again

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    It’s one thing to be an undead fiend of darkness, but it takes an immense amount of work to look cool while doing it.

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    Once you’ve been on this earth a bit longer, you’ll accept that you can’t save everyone.

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    It had been a couple of years and I was neither dead, nor undead, which I ranked as an achievement.

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    It is a great deal to ask of a kitten, to defend a man against the armies of the dead.

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    It suddenly occurred to me just how absurd this scene was: a guy wearing a suit of armor, standing next to an undead king, both hunched over the controls of a classic arcade game. It was the sort of surreal image you'd expect to see on the cover of an old issue of Heavy Metal or Dragon magazine.

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    Most people around here prefer undead drivers, so I never get a chance to make any money on steady contracts.

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    Pulling back, like a savage carnivore at its prey, it tore a large chunk of meat rendering his left arm useless...regardless he did not require it for long.

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    Some necrophobes earn their own fates.

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    Sometimes dead is better

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    Sorcha took the elevator down to the basement of the fashion house. She glanced at her stunningly beautiful reflection in the mirror and smiled to herself. How fortunate she was to be a vampire - no gray hairs, no wrinkles, no broken nails, no weight problems, and no PMT. What bliss! And how fortunate it was that all the legends about vampires were not true. She could not imagine an existence where she could not see and admire her own likeness - such a life to her would be intolerable and tedious. How could any female, even a vampire, survive without being able to see their own reflection? How could they do their hair and makeup? The very idea was totally preposterous.

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    Spartacus," I called, "how's it hanging?" Probably not too well. Once you're dead, had your organs removed, and are resurrected as an undead mummified cat, your testicles probably looked like old raisins that had rolled under the couch. Raisins didn't tend to...hang.

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    Suspicion infused Alex's voice. "Okay? That's it?" I looked back at him and smiled. "That's it. We disagree. It's done. We'll deal with whatever comes next." He stood up, brows lowered over squinty eyes. "Did Lafitte ply you with brandy, or have the body snatchers been here?

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    The answer to enemies who heal annoyingly fast is always, always decapitation. That is why swords will never go out of style.

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    The return of the rain, beating out time on London's rooftops and pavements. Early morning Zombies sheltering beneath copies of the Standard whilst others ran screaming for cover in doorways because water from the heavens is holy and melts the undead.

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    There was a bounty on my head, it was four days before Christmas, and I was having turtle gumbo with a merman, an undead pirate king, two loups-garou, and my best friend - a human pregnant with the half-elven child who had unknowingly helped set this whole debacle in motion. Plus a newbie vampire who didn't like the smell of food anymore.

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    Since when do wizards wear robes?" I whispered. "That's falling into every human stereotype ever created." Jeezum. Next thing you knew, they'd be waving around magic wands. "The First Elder thought they'd look more intimidating in robes than in business suits," Alex whispered back. "They look like they're on their way to a costume party at Hogwarts.

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    Take it from an old cadaver. Let go of the past.

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    The hand-plucked rose loses meaning as life is leached. Red love, once clutched to breast, putrefies and is thrown to the midden. The hand leaked life as meaning was pucked. Putrefaction clutched love and was thrown to the midden.

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    Thought Moves you past these lines Into conversation With the undead

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    The undead don’t care about careers. Vampires are all retirees.

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    To think that she had read the same elegiac prose he now beheld with such quiet awe made his heart sing.

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    Warren could see humans further up the street, that had appeared to be dead, now rising to their feet and swaying drunkenly. One man had a huge chunk of flesh bitten from his face and another from his neck, yet he moved forward even though he appeared to be in enormous pain. Many of the newly changed screamed and contorted their limbs and faces in anguish. They moaned in pain almost continuously.

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    What's that you're holding?" he asked, noticing the pamphlet, still rolled up in her left hand. "Oh, this?" She held it up. "How to Come Out to Your Parents." He widened his eyes. "Something you want to tell me?" "It's not for me. It's for you." She handed it to him. "I don't have to come out to my mother," said Simon. "She already thinks I'm gay because I'm not interested in sports and I haven't had a serious girlfriend yet. Not that she knows of, anyway." "But you have to come out as a vampire," Clary pointed out. "Luke thought you could, you know, use one of the suggested speeches in the pamphlet, except use the word 'undead' instead of--" "I get it, I get it." Simon spread the pamplet open. "Here, I'll practice on you." He cleared his throat. "Mom. I have something to tell you. I'm undead. Now, I know you may have some preconceived notions about the undead. I know you may not be comfortable with the idea of me being undead. But I'm here to tell you that the undead are just like you and me." Simon paused. "Well, okay. Possibly more like me than you." "SIMON." "All right, all right." He went on. "The first thing you need to understand is that I'm the same person I always was. Being undead isn't the most important thing about me. It's just part of who I am. The second thing you should know is that it isn't a choice. I was born this way." Simon squinted at her over the pamphlet. "Sorry, reborn this way.

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    You had me at 'blood allergy.

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    The sooner the rebirth, the prettier the corpse.

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    Todd’s wife was one of those women with a forced smile perpetually cemented on her face. Even after being chased by a mob of homicidal maniacs and attempting to barricade doors with barstools she kept up appearances, practicing for the days when her husband would be running for public office. When she saw her son poking at their former mail carrier’s dead body a look of utter horror came across her face for the slightest instant. She caught herself and put that smile back on so quickly Will wondered if she might have pulled a few cheek muscles. “Trevor!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Trevor, you get away from that this instant! You don’t know what kind of diseases that man had. Children shouldn’t play with dead things.” Will looked at Todd and smirked. “Cute kid. How many of those things do you think are out there?

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    What is it like.... what is it like to be dead?' Evan looked at him with his dull, unblinking blue eyes, ' I don't know, what is it like...... to be alive?

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    You must not have carnal relations with this elf, Drusilla.

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    As you get older, you recognize the erotic nature of the vampire and the idea of the undead.

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    It's a reflex. Hear a bell, get food. See an undead, throw a knife. Same thing, really.

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    Calvin the zombie searches for food. Horribly, the undead feed upon the living! ...Although, in a pinch, a PBJ will do, if you eat it messily enough.

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    A lich guards his phylactery like an elf guards his salad.

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    Robert Pattinson is rebel cool incarnated -- the James Dean of the undead.

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    Again he shook his head. The world's gone mad, he thought. The dead walk about and I think nothing of it. The return of corpses has become trivial in import. How quickly one accepts the incredible if only one sees it enough!

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    Being kidnapped and abused by the undead was worse than calculus, but not by a wide margin.

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    Can’t call ‘em zombies anymore,” sighed Manny. He seemed almost wistful. “Now we gotta be all politically correct. It’s like the Cold Wars never happened.

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    Don't judge me. Ethics and morality no longer exist in our world. It's a luxury of the past, afforded only to those who had a future.

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    Even in death she was more beautiful to him than she ever was alive.

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    Happiness is the province of those who ask few questions.

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    He had existed for a long time and was fluent in many languages - most of them…dead ones.

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    Her lungs, like moldering cheesecloth sacks, hung visible between cracked and yellowing ribs. Her internal organs, long absent, only flaked brown gristle clung to her spine. Sparse clumps of pale hair clung to the few shreds of flesh still gripping her skull. Five other Cotardist assassins stood mutely behind her. Though none looked to be such an advanced state of decay, they all showed signs of rot and neglect.

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    I don't know what's so scary about zombies. Reanimating the dead isn't that hard, but they make TERRIBLE minions. They can't move quickly and they fall to pieces in a matter of days.

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    If people don't wish to be eaten then they shouldn't taste so nice

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    Are you telling me that vampires and werewolves are the reason America won the Revolutionary War?,” I asked, dumbfounded.