Scythes

Let us award a

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Let us award a just, a brilliant homage to those rare men whom nature has endowed with the precious privilege of arranging a thousand isolated facts, of making seductive theories spring from them; but let us not forget to state, that the scythe of the reaper had cut the stalks before one had thought of … Read more

In one was, I

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In one was, I suppose, I have been in denial for some time, knowingly burning the candle at both ends and finding that it often gives a lovely light. But for precisely this reason, I can’t see myself smiting my brow with shock or hear myself whining about how it’s all so unfair: I have … Read more

I have terrible nightmares,

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I have terrible nightmares, you know. Every night when I come home from a long day’s dying, I take off my skin and lay it nicely on my armoire. I take off my bones and hang them up on the hatstand. I set my scythe to washing on the old stove. I eat a nice … Read more

In literature and in

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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 … Read more

So what does Tod

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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 … Read more