Death:
She arrived in my head about a week after her brother. He had arrived brooding, quiet, pale and gaunt and while there was indeed a definate family resemblance, she was in many ways his opposite: sensible, delightful, nice.
There's a tale in the Caballa that suggests that the Angel of Death is so beautiful that on finally seeing it (or him, or her) you fall in love so hard, so fast, that your soul is pulled out through your eyes.
I like that story.
And there's a touch of wish fulfillment in there too. I didn't want a Death who agonised over her role, or who took a grim delight in her job, or who didn't care. I wanted a Death that I'd like to meet, in the end. Someone who would care.
Introduction to the Death Gallery by Neil Gaiman "A Death Gallery" No. 1, 1994 published by DC/Vertigo

.... но и твоят цитат отговаря на представата ми :)

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