It's not death if you refuse it... It is if you accept it.
Life is just a dream on the way to death.
Fear is for the enemy. Fear and bullets.
So the crow spirals down through a collapsed dream and the only sound it makes in like a concave scream.
Death, like virtue, has its degrees.
Funboy: Pal, something is seriously wrong with you. The Crow: Atrocity has that effect on me.