Undead Quotes

I will not negotiate with the undead!

You stole from a member of the undead

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.

It had occurred to him that if the undead don't realize that they are dead, he might easily be one of them himself.

Once someone's dead you can't make them undead.

Do you really have the ability to control all types of undead?" Magnus asked. "Can you really make a hundred shoes in a single night?" I asked. Magnus smiled. "Wrong kind of fairie.

Often, a school is your best bet-perhaps not for education but certainly for protection from an undead attack.

With so much protection, wouldn't one be able to wander among the undead ranks, taunting them at will with no danger of repercussion?

The undead did not love, but they remembered love with a savage loyalty.

I so owed Arianna, that undead little genius.

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

Tod laughed. He was always able to find the humour in even the creepiest situations. I'd thought that it was an undead thing, until I became a member of the undead. Then I realized it was a Tod-thing.

There's a ghost in this house! An unquiet spirit!" Unquiet spirit?" Shane said under his breath. "Is that politically correct for pissed off? You know, like Undead American or something?

Shouldn't that be flipped right-side up?" I asked. "No," she said, eyes on the cards. After several moments of heavy silence, said, "You will destroy that which is undead." I waited about thirty seconds for her to continue, but she didn't. "Wait, that's it?" She nodded. "That's what the cards say to me.

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

I certainly had this fascination with monsters and vampires as did Tim and whatever this darkness, this mystery, this intrigue. And then, as you get older, you recognize the erotic nature of the vampire and the idea of the undead.

Hollywood is the only place on earth that has more vampires, more undead, more resurrections than a month of Easter Sundays.

Where did you find that one?" "I have no idea. I'm a magnet for crazies, I guess." "They must be able to sense a kindred spirit." "Your one to talk. Don't you have more hordes of the undead to lead in a glorious revolution?" "Zombies not undead. There's a fine distinction. And no. Right now I'm scouting new talent. The glorious revolution comes tomorrow.

she thought I could find a way to save her soul when she died and became an undead. Right now, I was just looking to find the rent money. I’d get to my roommate’s soul later.

He is the intermediary between us, his audience, the living, and they, the dolls, the undead, who cannot live at all and yet who mimic the living in every detail since, though they cannot speak or weep, still they project those signals of signification we instantly recognize as language.

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

But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.

As I made my way through 'On Line,' the austere, stridently dogmatic, sometimes revelatory exhibition 'about line' at MoMA, I found myself thinking, 'Someone please wake me when the seventies are over!' In the empire of curators, the sun never sets on the seventies. It is the undead decade.

Don't be too hasty," she warned. "Conserve your strength. If you're too eager to fight the undead, you may find yourselves joining them. Then you'd never see us again, and we'd be very sad." "Yes," said Christian. "I'd cry into my pillow every night." I resisted the urge to kick him. "Well, I couldn't visit if I was Strigoi, yeah, but hopefully I'd just die a normal death. Then I could come see you as a ghost.

Join us next time for Days of the Undead when Rachel learns her long lost brother is really a crown prince from outer space.

You two are cracked," Tod snapped. My smile widened. "Says the undead man in love with the soulless pop star.

I couldn't take much more of this. Being the object two men competed for wasn't as glamorous as it sounded in the movies. The two men who both wanted one hundred percent of my time weren't dashing, international playboys. They were undead and surprisingly immature, considering the youngest was just over a hundred years old.

For me, it's a multitude of things. In the modern world, there's a real genuine fear of loss of individuality and I think the undead speak to that. I also think the idea of the dead coming back to life, and this unstoppable foe that just keeps coming and coming, but rather slowly just chases you, is a real primal fear. It's like a fear of claustrophobia, heights or water.

I grew up hearing about the walking undead. I had a fascination with it as a child.

Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never more can the Count enter there Undead.

If you want to go foraging into the wilds of Canada without proper gear, you deserve what you get, even if that happens to include being attacked by an undead moose.

I like not being dead. Anything beyond that is just icing on the cake.My undead cake of livingness.

Very well! he said. You shall prove your worth by facing me in a joust! I'd never heard of an undead lich king challenging someone to a joust. Especially not in a subterranean burial chamber. All right, I said uncertainly. But won't we be needing horses for that? Not horses, he replied, stepping away from his throne. Birds.

Brush teeth. Wash hair. Rule undead world with an iron fist.

The vampire stared at me, his mouth slack as Ghastek assessed his options. I took a couple of forms from my desk, put them into the vamp's mouth, and pulled them up by their edges. "What are you doing?" Ghastek asked. "My hole puncher broke." "You have no respect for the undead.

He was like an undead boomerang. A zomberang.

I am a big fan of vampires. I've always been obsessed with the genre, and the beautiful romanticism and erotic kind of nature of the immortal being, the undead who lives on human blood.

She snuggled back under the blanket with me, turned toward me so that she could rest her head on my chest. “I hear your heart,” she said. “Do you check every once in a while, just to make sure I’m not undead?

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

God's terrible face brighter than a spoon collects the image of one fatal word;so that my life(which liked the sun and the moon)resembles something that has not occurred:i am a birdcage without any bird a collar looking for a dog a kisswithout lips;a prayer lacking any kneesbut something beats within my shirt to provehe is undead who living noone is.I have never loved you dear as now i love.

I doubt you’ve ever been forced to nonstop bang a woman hyped up on the undead voodoo version of Spanish fly, have you?” His chuckle was soft. “Can’t say that I have, Kitten.” “Yeah, well, consider me an original.” This time, when his lips brushed across my skin, it lasted more than a moment. “I always have.

I’d said it before and meant it: Alive or undead, the love of my life was a badass.

In those moments where you're not quite sure if the undead are really dead, dead, don't get all stingy with your bullets. I mean, one more clean shot to the head, and this lady could have avoided becoming a human Happy Meal. Woulda... coulda... shoulda.

The truth hit him. Jason wasn't quite Roman anymore. His time at Camp Half-Blood had changed him. Reyna had recognized that. Apparently, so did the undead legionnaires. If Jason no longer gave off the right sort of vibe, or aura of a Roman leader.

George Harrison: The day after the Blue Angel audition, John showed up to rehearsal with a long list of name suggestions, and I remember each and every one of them: the Deads-men, the Deadmen, the Undeads-men, the Undeadmen, the Rots, the Rotters, the Dirts, the Dirty Ones, the Grayboys, the Eaten Brains, the Eating Brains, the Mersey Beaters, the Mersey Beaten, the Bloodless, the Graves, the Headstones, and the Liverpools of Blood. Paul ripped off John's right arm and used it to slap John across the face, then he said, "Those're horrible, mate, just horrible, y'know.

I, Anita Blake, scourge of the undead-the human with more vampire kills than any other vampire executioner in the country-was dating a vampire. It was poetically ironic.

I see that you are working this vampire angle with some success. And kudos. Lots of girls love that sensitive-undead thing. But I'd drop the whole musician angle if I were you. Vampire rock stars are played out, and besides, you can't possible be very good.

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.

Since this was a formal undead gathering, there would be food—all kinds—drinks, dancing, and festivities, while those in power pondered whether or not to slaughter half the people around them. In other words, like a high-school prom.

Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger of falling in love, and were it not for his considerable skill in the deadly arts, that he should be in danger of being bested by hers--for never had he seen a lady more gifted in the ways of vanquishing the undead.