“Dead … might not be quiet at all.”
“For not in quiet English fieldsAre these, our brothers, lain to rest,Where we might deck their broken shieldsWith all the flowers the dead love best.”
“To look upon its grass grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace.”
“Now listen, we need to be quiet as mice. No, quieter than that. As quiet as . . . as . . .” “Dead mice?” Reynie suggested. “Perfect,” said Kate with an approving nod. “As quiet as dead mice.”
“She might be all right, Freddy said. But she sure is dead.”
“All is forgotten in the stone halls of the dead. These are the rooms of ruin where the spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one...”