[he didn't know if it was worse or not; he didn't know the details of her death, and he didn't plan to ask. But really, the death itself was relatively quick. There'd been worse ways to die - hell, his first death was a much worse way to die - it was the resurrection that had been hell.]

We...we do not thing death is ever anything other that awful. There is always pain, and fear, and the encroaching void. Death means something. Even when you come back. Even when there are no traces of your scars. You cannot simply revert back to the person that you once were.