“Yes,' he answered; 'and you will be dead, so long as you refuse to die.”

“Tintin! Are you dead? Say yes or no but answer me!”

“Answer this question very carefully, kid. Are you a virgin?"The silence was so long I thought I was going to have to ask him again."What the hell?" He sounded honestly perplexed."Yes or no? Are you a virgin?" I lost control halfway through. My voice spiraled up into a scream... "Sonofabitch answer me!""Yes!" he screamed back. "Yes, I'm a fucking virgin, don't shoot me goddammit fucking please!”

“Yes, you have been away a very long time.' 'Oh, centuries and centuries; so long,' she said, 'that I'm sure I'm dead and buried and this dear old place is heaven.”

“..."Charming people, when not actively shooting one another," a friend had once said, which was so unkind, but, like so many unkind comments, had a grain of truth in it. They did shoot one another and had been doing so for centuries. They did bicker over and brood on long-dead history--or history that should be long dead. The problem with history was that it refused to lie down and die.”

“You are dead, you know!” he screeched delightedly, “Come on Miss Wright! Die! Die! DIE!”