26 Quotes About Necromancy

Free, free, free... necromancer, I love you.

Merikh’s shamshir cut across the Emani’s chest, barely grazing the man. Loralee could see only a thin cut from his torn kameez. The Emani stumbled back, his eyes wide in abject horror. The glyphs on Merikh’s shamshir glowed green. The blade turned black, as if made of shadow. From the Emani’s wound, necrotic fog began to pour. A moment later, it took the form of a man. Loralee’s breath caught in her throat.

Some people experience a life-changing sensation that transforms how they see the world after a near-death experience, but the way I see it, we’re all dying – nay, we’re all dead – and it is up to us to be our own self-necromancers to find some form of life and spirit to reanimate the corpse of a life spent wanting.

Should they inquire of the Dead on account of the Living?

You were just worried about me." An exhale, relieved that I had understood. "Yeah"I turned. "Because you think I'm worth it"He put his fingers under my chin. "I absolutely think your worth it.""But you don't think you are."His mouth opened. Shut."That's what this is about, Derek. You won't let us worry about you because you don't think you're worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.

She pointed a finger at him. "Smart men don't comment on a woman's eating habits, regardless of how many brownies she can shove in her mouth at one time." He laughed. "In that case, I guess I'm not as smart as you think I am.

Like something straight out of a B-grade horror film, a single arm shot up from the dirt, reaching and grabbing as it clawed its way forth from its earthen prison. Ash and Trent watched the monster struggle in silence for at least ten minutes, occasionally exchanging glances. Finally, after all the writhing, the zombie emerged. It stumbled out of its grave covered in dirt and gave an annoyed-sounding groan.

If anyone stops us, as long as we mumble something pretentious about the glory of death, we should be fine.

In the myriadic year of Our Lord--the ten thousandth year of the King Undying, the kindly Prince of Death!--Gideon Nav packed her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines, and she escaped from the House of the Ninth.