Seth Grahame-Smith

...seeing the way his trousers clung to those most English parts.

Of all the weapons she had commanded, Elizabeth knew the least of love; and of all the weapons in the world, love was the most dangerous.

How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading!___poken like one who has never known the ecstasy of holding a still-beating heart in her hand.

Elizabeth: "Your balls, Mr. Darcy?"Darcy: "They belong to you, Miss Bennett.

I leave you, hoping that the lamp of liberty will burn in your bosoms until there shall no longer be a doubt that all mean are created free and equal.

There are but two types of men who desire war: those who haven__ the slightest intention of fighting it themselves, and those who haven__ the slightest idea what it is. _ Any man who has seen the face of death knows better than to seek him out a second time.

The bottom half of the page had descended into a doodle of a tiny man giving the middle finger to a giant, angry eagle with razor-sharp talons. Beneath it, the caption: To Mock a Killing Bird.

He begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cookery was owing. Briefly forgetting her manners, Mary grabbed her fork and leapt from her chair onto the table. Lydia, who was seated nearest her, grabbed her ankle before she could dive at Mr. Collins and, presumably, stab him about the head and neck for such an insult.

These fools who haven't the slightest idea how to live the morals they espouse. These fools who proclaim themselves men of God, yet show not the slightest reverance to His word...Is it any different from a drunkard preaching temperance? A whore preaching modesty?

But if you read Jane Austen, you know that she had a wicked sense of humor. Not only was she funny, but her early writing was very dark and had a gothic tone to it.

Most men have no purpose but to exist, Abraham; to pass quietly through history as minor characters upon a stage they cannot even see. To be the playthings of tyrants. But you...you were born to fight tyranny.

What an excellent father you have, girls!' said she, when the door was shut. 'Such joys are scarce since the good Lord saw fit to close the gates of Hell and doom the dead to walk amongst us.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains.

This is one hell of a suicide note.THE SUICIDE SOLILOQUY-Yes! I've resolved the deed to do, And this the place to do it;The heart I'll rush a dagger throughThough I in hell should rue it!Sweet steel! Come forth from out your sheath,And glist'ning, speak your powers;Rip up the organs of my breath,And draw my blood in showers!I strike! It quivers in that heartWhich drives me to this end;I draw and kiss the bloody dart,My last-my only friend!

__nd when this intoxication has worn away... when every desire is fulfilled and every language learned- when there are no more distant cities to explore; no classics to be studied; not another coin to be stuffed in to one's coffers- what then? One can have all the comforts of the world, but what use are they if there is no comfort in them?

Men have enslaved each other since they invented gods to forgive them for doing it.

Let us pray now for the future dead. Though we do not yet know their names, we know that there shall be far too many of them.

I have read of the great wars of ages past, and men slaughtered by the tens of thousands. And we give but fleeting consideration to their deaths, for it is our nature to banish such thoughts.