I have a lifetime appointment and I intend to serve it. I expect to die at 110, shot by a jealous husband.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
You kind of live and die by the serve.
I don't know what my Death Row meal would be. I'm surprised that people can even eat when they're on Death Row.
I had one relative who passed away but fortunately none others. So my sort of experience of it is quite limited, thankfully.
I need a long and lingering death to make sure that I have time to have a deathbed conversion.
A dinner invitation, once accepted, is a sacred obligation. If you die before the dinner takes place, your executor must attend.
Prior to my call to the Twelve, I served as a medical doctor and surgeon.
I don't sit in the corner waiting for death: death has to pursue me. I'm going strong. I hope to reach 100 and ask for an extension, just like my grandmother did.
My death will be caused by morphine, which I have deliberately taken with suicidal intent.
I am going to hold serve the majority of the time. It is nice to have a little time to return serve.
I was terribly wounded by my wife's death.
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