All I ask is that my final months be happy ones, and that I be permitted a husband who will see to my proper Christian beheading and burial.

I feel rather like a rabbit that has taken a fox for its pupil.

I've always enjoyed reading history, particularly presidential biographies.

Elizabeth sheathed her sword, knelt behind him, and strangled him to death with his own large bowel.

Contrary to his infallibly "honest" image, Abe wasn't above lying so long as it served a noble purpose.

Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger of falling in love, and were it not for his considerable skill in the deadly arts, that he should be in danger of being bested by hers--for never had he seen a lady more gifted in the ways of vanquishing the undead.

It's absurd to think of 'Pride and Prejudice,' this classic, beloved book, beset with a zombie uprising. The goal is to make you suspend your disbelief enough to allow you to get lost in the story and believe what you're reading for a while.