Scythe Quotes

Nothing 'gainst Times scythe can make defence. ~ William Shakespeare

But remember that good intentions pave many roads. Not all of them lead to hell. ~ Neal Shusterman

They want me to kill him because he didn't do well on their tests. This is a mismatch. I am Darwin's scythe. Nature scraping away the chaff. ~ Pierce Brown

You're up to the hilt of your magical dagger in demon guts one minute, then ready to vow forever to an angel swinging a scythe the next." - Emma ~ Before I Wake

VIII

'Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
Farewell to Severn shore.
Terence, look your last at me,
For I come home no more.

'The sun burns on the half-mown hill,
By now the blood is dried;
And Maurice amongst the hay lies still
And my knife is in his side.

'My mother thinks us long away;
'Tis time the field were mown.
She had two sons at rising day,
To-night she'll be alone.

'And here's a bloody hand to shake,
And oh, man, here's good-bye;
We'll sweat no more on scythe and rake,
My blood hands and I.

'I wish you strength to bring you pride,
And a love to keep you clean,
And I wish you luck, come Lammastide,
At racing on the green.

'Long for me the rick will wait,
And long will wait the fold,
And long will stand the empty plate,
And dinner will be cold.'

IX

On moonlit heath and lonesome bank
The sheep beside me graze;
And yon the gallows used to clank
Fast by the four cross ways.

A careless shepherd once would keep
The flocks by moonlight there,
And high amongst the glimmering sheep
The dead man stood on air.

They hang us now in Shrewsbury jail:
The whistles blow forlorn.
And trains all night groan on the rail
To men that die at morn.

There sleeps in Shrewsbury jail to-night,
Or wakes, as may betide,
A better lad, ~ A.E. Housman

You have waged bitter and undeclared war upon the green, gutting the rain forests, mile after mile, day after day, but know this: the war has come home! It is man's turn to embrace the scythe. ~ Alan Moore

So here's the drill. Every morning you'll come here to the Bank to check in with the Etceteras."

"Wait, what?"

"Etceteras. ETC stands for Ether Traffic Controllers, and the nickname just evolved from there."

"What does that make us, then?"

"Well, technically," said Uncle Mort, "we're called Gamma Removal and Immigration Managers - "

"But are more commonly known as Grims," Driggs said.

"Can't say I approve of the term." Uncle Mort flourished his razor-sharp scythe and smiled. "We're not that grim, are we?"

Lex snickered. ~ Gina Damico

But rituals turn us all into fucking idiots. Like those birds that sleep with their heads facing backwards because their ancestors slept with their heads under their wings. Plutarch says carrying new wives across thresholds is stupid because we don't remember that it refers to the rape of the Sabine women - and that's fucking Plutarch, two thousand years ago. We still draw the Reaper with a scythe. We should draw him driving a John Deere for Archer Daniels Midland. ~ Josh Bazell

For once, the entire scythedom seemed to agree there was something afoot that was more important than food. ~ Neal Shusterman

People can be tough as hell. They can go through some really heavy stuff... with a genuine smile... ~ Adam Scythe

Each moment has its sickle, emulous Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root. ~ Edward Young

Some things are fairly obvious when it's a seven-foot skeleton with a scythe telling you them ~ Terry Pratchett

It had to be Death. No-one else went around with empty eye sockets and, of course, the scythe over one shoulder was another clue. ~ Terry Pratchett

We stood up on two legs
And raised our heads above golden grass
He was there

We sharpened stone and steel
Used tools to harvest grass, beast and brother
He was there

We clustered together
In brick and mud swarming with rats and plague
He was there

We built nations and mistrust
Our fingers hovered over the red button
He smiled

Still we build
To rise above the golden grass
Away from the reach of his scythe

When he will harvest no more ~ Tim Seeley

The village schoolmaster took us for instructive walks ('what you hear is the sound of a scythe being sharpened' ; 'that field there will be given a rest next season ';'oh, just a small bird...no special name '; 'if that peasant is drunk, it is because he is poor ') 71 ~ Vladimir Nabokov

His words drifted across Death's scythe and split tidily into two ribbons of consonants and vowels. ~ Terry Pratchett

Do a lot of internet groups meet up at conventions?"

"Sure."

"How about your Starfield peeps? The online ones you talk to?"

"Oh - well, yeah. A few of them are here." We break apart for a moment as an elf with a scythe squeezes between us. "Anyway, we should get to the costume contest area and sign in, what do you say? And try not to run into the twins."

"If we do I'll shove them in a closet," Sage mutters.

I laugh. "Ready to kick some Nox butt?"

She scoffs. "Elle, I'm ready to tell them to get down on both knees and call you Queen."

"I thought you were going somewhere completely different with that."

"Eh, this is a PG sort of moment."

"Fair enough. ~ Ashley Poston

You know, voices can't hurt you if you don't listen to them. ~ Adam Scythe

Even the word 'science' comes from an Indo-European root meaning 'to cut' or 'to separate.' The same root led to the word 'shit,' which of course means to separate living flesh from nonliving waste. The same root gave us 'scythe' and 'scissors' and 'schism,' which have obvious connections to the concept of separation. ~ Neal Stephenson

Is that why you're here?" Ben blurted "To glean one of us?" Scythe Faraday offered an unreadable smile. "I'm here for dinner. ~ Neal Shusterman

Wind surged across the frozen wastes. Our bodies moved restlessly, we could not feed them enough. Dusk upon us, we crept across the ghetto of boulders, our headlamps sometimes eerie, then like rockets in the fog. Total darkness ambushed us short of our destination. The hours wore on. The moraine wore us down. My eyes were riveted to the rising scythe of a moon. In that instant I figured out what was killing me. It wasn't the quick blow of an ax, but the slow torment of the rack: each day I was weaker, each hour a little more sick. With every night that passed I shuffled a bit nearer to death. I made life-and-death decisions like I was choosing between two brands ~ Mark Twight

Leaving the path to follow the heart, to help someone, is anything... but reckless. ~ Adam Scythe

As heirs to a legacy more than two centuries old, it is understandable why present-day Americans would take their own democracy for granted. A president freely chosen from a wide-open field of two men every four years; a Congress with a 99% incumbency rate; a Supreme Court comprised of nine politically appointed judges whose only oversight is the icy scythe of Death
all these reveal a system fully capable of maintaining itself. But our perfect democracy, which neither needs nor particularly wants voters, is a rarity. It is important to remember there still exist other forms of government in the world today, and that dozens of foreign countries still long for a democracy such as ours to be imposed on them. ~ Jon Stewart

It's never too late to drop your beliefs and let your wounds heal. Instead of wounding others as well. ~ Adam Scythe

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, Losing both beauty and utility. ~ William Shakespeare

So what does Tod look like? Whitewashed skeleton skulking around in a black cape and hood? Carrying a scythe? 'Cause I'm thinking that would cause mass panic in the hospital." ... "Do you chase after a funeral processions in a long, dirty dress, hair trailing behind you in the wind? I shot him a mock frown. "Have you been following me again? ~ Rachel Vincent

In Siena, where more than half the inhabitants died of the plague, work was abandoned on the great cathedral, planned to be the largest in the world, and never resumed, owing to loss of workers and master masons and "the melancholy and grief" of the survivors. The cathedral's truncated transept still stands in permanent witness to the sweep of death's scythe. Agnolo di Tura, a chronicler of Siena, recorded the fear of contagion that froze every other instinct. 'Father abandoned child, wife husband, one brother another,' he wrote, 'for this plague seemed to strike through the breath and sight. And so they died. And no one could be found to bury the dead for money or friendship.… And I, Angolo di Tura, called the Fat, buried my five children with my own hands, and so did many others likewise. ~ Barbara W. Tuchman

The miser is counting his gold pieces, unaware of Death, who holds two clear symbols: an hourglass and a pitchfork."
"Why a pitchfork and not a scythe?"
"Because Death reaps but the Devil harvests ~ Arturo Perez Reverte

If Time have any wrinkle graven there; If any, be a satire to decay, And make time's spoils despised every where. Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life, So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife. ~ William Shakespeare

You see through the facade of the world, Citra Terranova. You'd make a good scythe." Citra recoiled.
"I'd never want to be one."
"That", he said, "is the first requirement. ~ Neal Shusterman

It was almost a mystical experience. I do not know how else to put it. My mind outran time as he neared, and it was as though I had an eternity to ponder the approach of this man who was my brother. His garments were filthy, his face blackened, the stump of his right arm raised, gesturing anywhere. The great beast that he rode was striped, black and red, with a wild red mane and tail. But it really was a horse, and its eyes rolled and there was foam at its mouth and its breathing was painful to hear. I saw then that he wore his blade slung across his back, for its haft protruded high above his right shoulder. Still slowing, eyes fixed upon me, he departed the road, bearing slightly toward my left, jerked the reins once and released them, keeping control of the horse with his knees. His left hand went up in a salute-like movement that passed above his head and seized the hilt of his weapon. It came free without a sound, describing a beautiful arc above him and coming to rest in a lethal position out from his left shoulder and slanting back, like a single wing of dull steel with a minuscule line of edge that gleamed like a filament of mirror. The picture he presented was burned into my mind with a kind of magnificence, a certain splendor that was strangely moving. The blade was a long, scythe like affair that I had seen him use before. Only then we had stood as allies against a mutual foe I had begun to believe unbeatable. Benedict had proved otherwise that night. Now that I sa ~ Roger Zelazny

Calm down, Braveheart." Gabriel searched through the weapons. "I'm trying to find something not quite as fatal as ... a scythe? Really?"
Gabriel held the wicked half-moon blade up and looked at Tristan. "What are you, the Grim Reaper?"
"Yes. Yes, Gabriel. I'm the Grim Reaper. You caught me. I drive around in my car full of weapons collecting souls. ~ Chelsea Fine

Therin lies the paradox of the profession,' Faraday said. 'Those who wish to have the job should not have it...and those who would most refuse to kill are the only ones who should. ~ Neal Shusterman

The world has a talent for rewarding bad behavior with stardom ~ Neal Shusterman

Occupation is the scythe of time. ~ Napoleon Bonaparte

Death and his scythe do not come. No sweeping black capes or ethereal escapes. There's no pearly gate, no prisms of colors as his soul slips away. The stillness is cold steel. The silence is empty with no memory to mend it. ~ Laura Kreitzer

Above it all drifted a silvery scythe blade of moon. Wayne looked up at it, and away, and then looked again. The moon had a hooked nose, a thoughtfully frowning mouth, and a single eye closed in sleep. When it exhaled, a wind rippled across the plains and silvery beds of cloud raced through the night. Wayne almost clapped his hands in delight to look upon it. ~ Joe Hill

sHe half-turned, and felt the familiar and very uncomfortable prickly feeling of Time slowing down around him.

Death paused in the act of running a whetstone along the edge of his scythe and gave him a nod of acknowledgment, as between one professional and another.

He put his bony digit to his lips, or rather, to the place where his lips would have been if he'd had lips.

All wizards can see Death, but they don't necessarily want to. ~ Terry Pratchett

In literature and in art, alike, this gloomy fashion of regarding Death has been characteristic of Christianity. Death has been painted as a skeleton grasping a scythe, a grinning skull, a threatening figure with terrible face and uplifted dart, a bony scarecrow shaking an hourglass - all that could alarm and repel has been gathered round this rightly-named King of Terrors. ~ Annie Besant

To find the Scythe of Nen, I first had to find possibly the most elusive quarry I'd ever had to locate in my entire seeking career: a virgin on an island full of college students. ~ Lisa Shearin

He thought of nothing, wished for nothing, but not to be left behind the peasants, and to do his work as well as possible. He heard nothing but the swish of scythes, and saw before him Tit's upright figure mowing away, the crescent-shaped curve of the cut grass, the grass and flower heads slowly and rhythmically falling before the blade of his scythe, and ahead of him the end of the row, where would come the rest.

Suddenly, in the midst of his toil, without understanding what it was or whence it came, he felt a pleasant sensation of chill on his hot, moist shoulders. He glanced at the sky in the interval for whetting the scythes. A heavy, lowering storm cloud had blown up, and big raindrops were falling. Some of the peasants went to their coats and put them on; others--just like Levin himself--merely shrugged their shoulders, enjoying the pleasant coolness of it.

Another row, and yet another row, followed--long rows and short rows, with good grass and with poor grass. Levin lost all sense of time, and could not have told whether it was late or early now. A change began to come over his work, which gave him immense satisfaction. In the midst of his toil there were moments during which he forgot what he was doing, and it came all easy to him, and at those same moments his row was almost as smooth and well cut as Tit's. But so soon as he recollected what he was doing, and began trying to do better, he was at once conscious of all the difficulty of his task, ~ Leo Tolstoy

There were bad times before, and you are still here... Living, breathing, feeling the wind on your skin. Let everything go and feel it! ~ Adam Scythe

And her voice cut through the noise like a scythe through a poodle. ~ Daniel O'Malley

As for me, I went inside, walked up to my bedroom, and fell on the floor. What…just happened? Staring at the ceiling, I tried to take it all in. My mind began to race, trying to figure out what it all meant. Do I need to learn how to whittle? Cook fried chicken? Ride a horse? Use a scythe? My face began to feel flushed. And children? Oh, Lord. That means we might have children! What will we name them? Travis and Dolly? Oh my gosh. I have children in my future. I could see it plainly in front of me. They'll be little redheaded children with green eyes just like mine, and they'll have lots of freckles, too. I'll have ten of them, maybe eleven. I'll have to squat in the garden and give birth while picking my okra. Every stereotype of domestic country life came rushing to the surface. A lot of them involved bearing children.
Then my whole body relaxed in a mushy, contended heap as I remembered all the times I'd walked back into that very room after being with Marlboro Man, my cowboy, my savior. I remembered all the times I'd fallen onto my bed in a fizzy state of euphoria, sighing and smelling my shirt to try to get one last whiff. All the times I'd picked up the phone early in the morning and heard his sexy voice on the other end. All the times I'd longed to see him again, two minutes after he'd dropped me off. This was right, this was oh, so right. If I couldn't go a day without seeing him, I certainly couldn't go a lifetime… ~ Ree Drummond

Although the scythe isn't pre-eminent among the weapons of war, anyone who has been on the wrong end of, say, a peasants' revolt will know that in skilled hands it is fearsome. ~ Terry Pratchett

The unpredictability of our unavailing lives is inane and frivolous, with the grim reaper only ever one step behind us. Your greatest challenge is to live the life you dream of, before his deathly scythe decapitates your peripheral existence ~ Michael Khatkar

Wish me luck, dear.'
'I won't do that.' And when Marie looked to Anastasia for an explanation, the girl smiled and said, 'Luck is for losers. You have history on your side. You have gravity, You have authority. You are the Granddame of Death.' And then she added, 'Your Excellency. ~ Neal Shusterman

Partially undermining the manufacturer's ability to assert that its work constituted a meaningful contribution to mankind was the frivolous way in which it went about marketing its products. Grief was the only rational response to the news that an employee had spent three months devising a supermarket promotion based on an offer of free stickers of cartoon characters called the Fimbles. Why had the grown-ups so churlishly abdicated their responsibilities? Were there not more important ambitions to be met before Death showed himself on the horizon in his hooded black cloak, his scythe slung over his shoulder? ~ Alain De Botton

A SMALL PIECE OF TRUTH
I do not carry a sickle or scythe.
I only wear a hooded black robe when it's cold.
And I don't have those skull-like facial features you seem to enjoy pinning on me from a distance. You want to know what I truly look like? I'll help you out. Find yourself a mirror while I continue. ~ Markus Zusak

Then we leave together,' he whispered. Just that, nothing else.
And for the first time since they met, Scythe cried. ~ Drew Karpyshyn

Some scythe robes were bright, some more muted. They looked like the rich, flowing robes of Renaissance angels, both heavy yet lighter than air. ~ Neal Shustermanrman

He took his hands off the oars and pulled in the mooring rope. If I make a couple of loops, he thought, I can strap the axe on to my back.
He had a mental picture of what could happen to a man who plunged into the cauldron below a waterfall with a sharp piece of metal attached to his body.
GOOD MORNING.
Vimes blinked. A tall dark robed figure was now sitting in the boat.
'Are you Death?'
IT'S THE SCYTHE, ISN'T IT? PEOPLE ALWAYS NOTICE THE SCYTHE.
'I'm going to die?'
POSSIBLY.
'Possibly? You turn up when people are possibly going to die?'
OH, YES. IT'S QUITE THE NEW THING. IT'S BECAUSE OF THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE.
'What's that?'
I'M NOT SURE.
'That's very helpful. ~ Terry Pratchett

The scythe fell and lay in the grass like a lost smile. ~ Ray Bradbury

It had all seemed as inevitable as sunset. Instead it was the beauty of the sun glinting upon the scythe. ~ Suzanne Finnamore

There was an Old Person of Blythe,
Who cut up his meat with a scythe,
When they said, 'Well! I never!' - he cried, 'Scythes for ever!'
That lively Old Person of Blythe. ~ Edward Lear

Things change, so I have to change too. ~ Adam Scythe

Hey, for a scythe, cookies, and a chance to commit murder, Kronos could hide his true feelings. ~ Rick Riordan

We must be quite the sight. Raffe in his red mask with his demon wings spread out in all their scythe-edged glory. A scrawny teenage Daughter of Man brandishing an archangel sword. And a little girl stitched-up to look and behave like a nightmare who is clutching a pair of angel wings. ~ Susan Ee

A thousand feet above the crash site the flock of crows re-formed, drew into a tight cloud that took on the shape of a scythe as it flew low across the town, wheeling and soaring, filling the cool clear air with their brassy cries, and then it rose up in one coherent mass and disappeared into the east in the direction of Tallulah's Wall. ~ Carsten Stroud

Death sat in His garden, running a whetstone along the edge of His scythe. It was already so sharp that any passing breeze that blew across it was sliced smoothly into two puzzled zephyrs, ~ Terry Pratchett

36 - Mowing (from A Boy's Will, 1915) There was never a sound beside the wood but one, And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground. What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself; Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun, Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound-- And that was why it whispered and did not speak. It was no dream of the gift of idle hours, Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf: Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows, Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers (Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake. The fact is the sweetest dream that labour knows. My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make. ~ Leslie Laurio

This, Tietjens thought, is England! A man and a maid walk through Kentish grass fields: the grass ripe for the scythe. The man honourable, clean, upright; the maid virtuous, clean, vigorous; he of good birth; she of birth quite as good; each filled with a too good breakfast that each could yet capably digest. Each come just from an admirably appointed establishment: a table surrounded by the best people, their promenade sanctioned, as it were, by Church - two clergy - the State, two Government officials; by mothers, friends, old maids. ~ Ford Madox Ford

You talk of the scythe of Time, and the tooth of Time: I tell you, Time is scytheless and toothless; it is we who gnaw like the worm - we who smite like the scythe. It is ourselves who abolish - ourselves who consume: we are the mildew, and the flame. ~ John Ruskin

How Could You Not - for Jane Kenyon

It is a day after many days of storms.
Having been washed and washed, the air glitters;
small heaped cumuli blow across the sky; a shower
visible against the firs douses the crocuses.

We knew it would happen one day this week.
Now, when I learn you have died, I go
to the open door and look across at New Hampshire
and see that there, too, the sun is bright
and clouds are making their shadowy ways along the horizon;

and I think: How could it not have been today?
In another room, Keri Te Kanawa is singing
the Laudate Dominum of Mozart, very faintly,
as if in the past, to those who once sat
in the steel seat of the old mowing machine,
cheerful descendent of the scythe of the grim reaper,

and drew the cutter bars little
reciprocating triangles through the grass
to make the stalks lie down in sunshine.
Could you have walked in the dark early this morning
and found yourself grown completely tired
of the successes and failures of medicine,
of your year of pain and despair remitted briefly
now and then by hope that had that leaden taste?

Did you glimpse in first light the world as you loved it
and see that, now, it was not wrong to die
and that, on dying, you would leave
your beloved in a day like paradise?

Near sunrise did you loosen your hold a little?
How could you not ~ Galway Kinnell

Which is sharper? The hatchet that cuts down dreams? Or the scythe that clears a path for another? ~ Pam Munoz Ryan

Mine is the Month of Roses; yes, and mine
The Month of Marriages! All pleasant sights
And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming vine,
The foliage of the valleys and the heights.
Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights;
The mower's scythe makes music to my ear;
I am the mother of all dear delights;
I am the fairest daughter of the year. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

On the flat expanse of pancake ice, War stood by the Pale Rider's side. Though their forms did not touch, their shadows intertwined, black on black, in a smoky caress.
"Knew you'd come," Death said cheerfully.
She smiled, and that slow motion of her lips hinted at many things. "The White Rider divided, and the world on the brink of destruction. How could I stay away?"
"I could set my watch by you."
"You don't have a watch." Her smile broadened into a grin. "An hourglass, maybe . . ."
"Please, not another joke about a scythe . . ."
She mimed zipping her mouth shut.
A pause, as they listened to the sounds of the boy healing and the man summoning doom.
"I like him," War said.
Even though she hadn't specified whether she meant the boy or the man, Death smiled and nodded. "Me too."
"You like everyone."
"Well, yes."
The two shared a quiet laugh, their voices mingling in perfect harmony.
A longer pause, and then War asked, "What of Famine?"
"What of her? She's not mine. Not yet, anyway. She will be soon enough."
The Red Rider slid him a look. "That's cold, even for you."
"Eh, just practical." A shrug. "Everyone comes to me eventually. It's the journey that makes it interesting."
"Such a people person!"
He flashed her a grin. "My best quality."
"Oh," said War, sliding her gloved hand into his pale one, "I can think of others that are better. ~ Jackie Morse Kessler

I vow to become the change that might have been ~ Neal Shusterman

Scythe Curie seemed a mix of many emotions, but she folded them all away, like clothes that no longer fit, and closed the drawer. Citra expected she never spoke of this to anyone else, and would probably never speak of it again. ~ Neal Shusterman

Cat. No doubled vision: it's a cat, singular. A solitary diurnal ambush hunter with good hearing and binocular vision and a predilection for biting the neck of its prey in half while disemboweling it with the scythe-like claws on its hind legs. Basically it's a velociraptor with a fur coat and an outsize sense of entitlement. Right ~ Charles Stross

Vic twisted her head to peer back over her shoulder, wanting another look, and saw three other children emerging out of the alley behind her. One appeared to be holding a scythe; two of them were barefoot. Barefoot in the snow. ~ Joe Hill

The night following the reading, Gansey woke up to a completely unfamiliar sound and fumbled for his glasses. It sounded a little like one of his roommates was being killed by a possum, or possibly the final moments of a fatal cat fight. He wasn't certain of the specifics, but he was sure death was involved.
Noah stood in the doorway to his room, his face pathetic and long-suffering. "Make it stop," he said.
Ronan's room was sacred, and yet here Gansey was, twice in the same weak, pushing the door open. He found the lamp on and Ronan hunched on the bed, wearing only boxers. Six months before, Ronan had gotten the intricate black tattoo that covered most of his back and snaked up his neck, and now the monochromatic lines of it were stark in the claustrophobic lamplight, more real than anything else in the room. It was a peculiar tattoo, both vicious and lovely, and every time Gansey saw it, he saw something different in the pattern. Tonight, nestled in an inked glen of wicked, beautiful flowers, was a beak where before he'd seen a scythe.
The ragged sound cut through the apartment again.
"What fresh hell is this?" Gansey asked pleasantly. Ronan was wearing headphones as usual, so Gansey stretched forward far enough to tug them down around his neck. Music wailed faintly into the air.
Ronan lifted his head. As he did, the wicked flowers on his back shifted and hid behind his sharp shoulder blades. In his lap was the half-formed raven, its head tilted bac ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Kathleen," he calls, his voice a groan.

There is magic in names. Can she hear him?

"Kathleen," he calls again, louder.

Behind him, the denizens of Twilight murmur.

"KATHLEEN," he cries. His anguish batters the shining wall, shifting the starstruck colors from rose and lapis to deep purple and bloody magenta, but it remains inviolable.

Shadowman drops his scythe in the waters. He'll scream forever, if need be, until the day the walls tumble into the ocean.

"Hey, you."

Shadowman's attention whips to the top of the wall some distance down the shoreline to his left. An angel is perched on the edge - fair hair, fair-eyed, skin a soft café. A recent crossing.

"Trade you," Custo says.

Shadowman has no words.

"You want in or don't you? Heaven's no place for me, and I'm not hanging around until they figure it out." The angel glances over his shoulder.

The murmurs of Twilight grow louder, sharper, but Shadowman pays them no mind. Not anymore. They've already done their worst.

"I do," Shadowman says.

Custo flashes a grin. "Meet me at the wall. ~ Erin Kellison

He picked up three long fresh stalks of timothy and braided them together. He upended the scythe and thrust the handle deep enough into the soft earth so it would stand upright. He tied the braided grass to one of the grips and slipped the whetstone into the loops so it would stay. Then he walked off into the woods. ~ Theodore Sturgeon

Behold, my children!" she said. "The instrument of my revenge. I will call it a scythe!"
The Titans muttered among themselves: What is that for? Why is it curved? How do you spell scythe? ~ Rick Riordan

A physician can sometimes parry the scythe of death, but has no power over the sand in the hourglass. ~ Hester Lynch Piozzi

We never know what choices will lead to defining moments in our lives. A glance to the left instead of right could define who we meet and who passes us by. Our life path can be determined by a single phone call we make, or neglect to make. ~ Neal Shusterman

Over these many years, I have observed both profound folly and breathtaking wisdom among humankind. They balance each other like dancers in the throes of a passionate tango. It is only when the brutality of the dance overwhelms the beauty that the future is threatened. It is the Scythedom that leads and sets the tone for the dance. I often wonder if the Scythedom realised how fragile are the spines of the other dancers. ~ Neil Shusterman

ALPHA: sleek black-and-brown female with a white fang-shaped mark below her ear (also known as Blade) BETA: huge black-and-tan male (also known as Mace) DAGGER - brown-and-tan male with a stubby face PISTOL - black-and-tan female BRUTE - black-and-tan male RIPPER - black-and-tan female REVOLVER - black-and-tan male AXE - large black-and-brown male SCYTHE - large black-and-tan female BLUDGEON - massive black-and-tan male MUSKET - black-and-brown male CANNON - brown-and-tan female LANCE - black-and-tan male ARROW - young black-and-tan male OMEGA: smaller black-and-brown male (also known as Bullet) PUPS: FANG - brown-and-tan male LONE ~ Erin Hunter

Don't swallow a scythe if your stomach isn't curved ~ Mo Yan

There is no error more common than that of thinking that those who are the causes or occasions of great tragedies share in the feelings suitable to the tragic mood: no error more fatal than expecting it of them. The martyr in his 'shirt of flame' may be looking on the face of God, but to him who is piling the faggots or loosening the logs for the blast the whole scene is no more than the slaying of an ox is to the butcher, or the felling of a tree to the charcoal burner in the forest, or the fall of a flower to one who is mowing down the grass with a scythe. Great passions are for the great of soul, and great events can be seen only by those who are on a level with them. ~ Oscar Wilde

Love gives you something extra... It makes you limitless... ~ Adam Scythe

I'm sick of white walls and endings. The only thing that doesn't end in this place is me. I don't end. I just go on, and on, swinging that scythe glued to my hand. There's no rhythm to the strokes. Few see death coming, and even those who do see death don't see me. Because there is no me. Not anymore. Always the reaper, never the reaped. Soon that won't bother me. Soon I won't care. Emotional death follows physical death at a different pace for each reaper. I've put it off for more than two years, but it's inevitable. ~ Rachel Vincent

I have no need for soft words or tender concern," he told her, praying she would heed it as the warning he intended. "Don't expect me to provide those things to you, either. That's not who I am. Look at me only as a weapon. A deadly one you'd be wise to steer clear of until this whole thing is over."
She didn't cower, even though he'd made grown Breed males tremble with less venom than he showed her now. She drew her shoulders more squarely, her eyes narrowed as she slowly shook her head.
"You're not a weapon, Scythe. You're flesh and blood. You're a man. ~ Lara Adrian

I've found a way to drive Scythe half insane. Where is he? Tzana, pretend to quarrel with me." "His name is Pet!" Tzana argued, so emphatic that Ela knew she meant it. Kien frowned. "No, he's Scythe!" On the other side of the clearing, the huge destroyer stopped eating and began to pace. Ela was certain she saw him sweating. ~ R.J. Larson

I choose to be known as scythe Anastasia
after the youngest member of the family Romanov
she was the product of a corrupt system, and because of that, was denied her very life - as I almost was
had she lived who knows what she might have done. perhaps she could have changed the world and redeemed her family name. choose to be scythe Anastasia. I vow to become the change that night have been ~ Neal Shusterman

I want to go ahead of Father Time with a scythe of my own. ~ H.G.Wells

What colour was her scythe?"
"Sadly, I wasn't able to take the time to appreciate its subtle hues as it tore through my skin. ~ Gina Damico

He sang like an angel, he was faithful to God and he waited honorably
for the wife he believed God chose for him. He made two daughters who
shone like mirrors in the direct sun; he blazed his path with a scythe
and his broad shoulders, and he was who he chose to be, which is the
hardest and bravest thing a man can do. He looked at us, his parents,
his sisters, his whole crooked family, and he flexed his jaw muscles,
packed up his truck, and drove away. ~ Haven Kimmel

Sonnet XII: There is a Meetinghouse across the wold

There is a Meetinghouse across the wold
Near shaded churchyard where pine breezes sigh;
Such sacred mem'ries gently here unfold
Of rustic folk whom 'neath the yew trees lie.
Engraved on stones now crum'ling in the earth,
Of souls asleep for o'er a hundred years,
Foretell unceasing cycles - Death and Birth
That yew tree nods and weeps her unseen tears.
But God shall guide us through the gloom of night
Victorious over grim reaper's blade,
As yet we grasp to see eternal light
Amidst life's fickle joys which here do fade.
Victims of Death by lusty scythe bannish'd
Triumphant wake to find nightmares vanish'd!

13 February, 2013 ~ Timothy Salter

Senseless people name evil good, call good evil. As you are doing. You accuse Us of passing false judgement: you do Us injustice. We shall prove this to you. You ask who We are: We are God's handle, Master Death, a truly effective reaper. Our scythe works its way. It cuts down white, black, red, brown, green, blue, grey, yellow, and all kinds of lustrous flowers in its path, irrespective of their splendour, their strength, their virtue. And the violet's beautiful colour, rich perfume, and palatable sap, avail it nought. See: that is justice. Our justification was acknowledged by the Romans and the poets, for they knew Us better than you do.
You ask what We are: We are nothing, and yet something. Nothing, because We have neither life, nor being, nor form, and We are no spirit, not visible, not tangible; something, because We are the end of life, the end of existence, the beginning of nullity, a cross between the two. We are a happening that fells all people. Huge giants must fall before Us; all living beings must be transformed by Us.
You ask where We are: We are not ascertainable. But Our form was found in a temple in Rome*, painted on a wall, as a hoodwinked man sitting on an ox; this man wielded a hatchet in his right hand and a shovel in his left hand, with which he was beating the ox. A great crowd of all kinds of people was hitting him, fighting him, and making casts at him, each one with the tools of his trade: even the nun with her psalter was there. They str ~ Johannes Von Saaz