You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the Grim Reaper.
I'm so happy dancing while the grim reaper cuts, cuts, cuts, but he can't get me. I'm as clever as can be, and I'm very quick but don't forget; we've only got so many tricks. no one lives forever.
Everyone knows that time is Death, that Death hides in clocks. Imposing another time powered by the Clock of the Imagination, however, can refuse his law. Here, freed of the Grim Reaper's scythe, we learn that pain is knowledge and all knowledge pain.
I drive a motorbike, so there is the whiff of the grim reaper round every corner, especially in London.
In the first book of my Discworld series, published more than 26 years ago, I introduced Death as a character; there was nothing particularly new about this - death has featured in art and literature since medieval times, and for centuries we have had a fascination with the Grim Reaper.
You're not a woman," he said finally. "You're the Grim Reaper with red hair!
The Grim Reaper, Gloria corrected herself - if anyone deserved capital letters it was surely Death. Gloria would rather like to be the Grim Reaper. She wouldn't necessarily be grim, she suspected she would be quite cheerful (Come along now, don't make such a fuss).
A halo surrounded the grim reaper nun, Sister Maria. (By the way-I like this human idea of the grim reaper. I like the scythe. It amuses me.)
Still, this whole grim reaper thing should have come with a manual. Or a diagram of some kind. A flowchart would have been nice.
And, ah, who are you? What Horseman, I mean.” Thanatos swung around. “Death.” Cara swallowed. Audibly. “As in, the Grim Reaper?” He snorted. “That poser.
Harmony glanced to her left, and my gaze followed hers to the living room, where my aunt had died, my cousin had been restored, and I'd whacked a psychotic grim reaper with a cast-iron skillet. Weirdest. Tuesday. Ever.
Do you know, every time I've seen you you've been like the Grim Reaper of goodwill and cheer. You should find another profession.
The Grim Reaper doesn't disappear... he catches up.
I am not cute. I am the dreaded Grim Reaper. People fear me, you know. There's a whole song about it.
Handsome enough' is this Grim Reaper, Who can snuff all these 'brief candles,' every fluttering soul sucking the air, from this hall" -The Vampire Lestat
Sadly, I cant avoid being 75. Like many people of my age, we are all heading towards the grim reaper, and I am clinging on. I just to have to sharpen my fingernails a little so that I can hang on for longer!
It feels like getting a back massage from the Grim Reaper: one must get comfortable with the most horrifying things in the world.
I've cheated the Grim Reaper more times than anyone I know, and I'll fight like a wildcat until they nail the lid of my pine box down on me.
Life is a copiously branching bush, continually pruned by the grim reaper of extinction, not a ladder of predictable progress.
or simply:
