“this…living with a broken heart is living half dead, and that doesn’t mean you’re half alive. It means you’re half dead. And…that’s no way to live.”
“What’s more, you’re loads better than you think you are.”“So why is it I get to thinking that way?” I puzzled.“That’s because you’re only half-living.” she said briskly. “The other half is still untapped somewhere.”
“Look at yourself right now. You’re half dead from blood loss, and you’re out shopping. These disguises look great, but that’s all they are: thin sheets of maybe standing between you and trouble.”
“What’s with the zombie craze? Zombies are half alive, half dead, right? Sounds like my wife in bed.”
“Cats like to cuddle more than any other living creature, including zombies, which are only half dead.”
“I make love like a half an hour minus 27 minutes. If you’re as bad in bed as I am in math, that’s roughly four minutes. And I do mean rough.”