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“Redd turned to her assassins. "What is it I always say?"
The Cat, Sacrenoir, and the others bandied uncertain glances about.
"Don’t be stupid?" ventured Alistaire.
"I should kill you now?" offered The Cat.
"Do I have to murder everyone myself?" tried Siren.
"No, idiots! When in doubt, go for the head. That’s what I always say. ”
― Frank Beddor, ArchEnemy

“Her constant orders for beheading are shocking to those modern critics of children's literature who feel that juvenile fiction should be free of all violence and especially violence with Freudian undertones. Even the Oz books of L. Frank Baum, so singularly free of the horrors to be found in Grimm and Andersen, contain many scenes of decapitation. As far as I know, there have been no empirical studies of how children react to such scenes and what harm if any is done to their psyche. My guess is that the normal child finds it all very amusing and is not damaged in the least, but that books like Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz should not be allowed to circulate indiscriminately among adults who are undergoing analysis.”
― Martin Gardner, The Annotated Alice: The Definitive Edition

“I might have known better, nothing is what everybody wants, the world runs on that law. Personally, if I could, I would instigate Meat-Axe Day, and out of the goodness of my heart I would whack your head off with a couple of others. Every man should be allowed one day and a hatchet just to ease his heart.”
― Djuna Barnes, Nightwood

“I realized that even if all the people in the world from the day of creation found this to be necessary according to whatever theory, I knew that it was not necessary and that it was wrong. Therefore, my judgements must be based on what is right and necessary and not on what people say and do; I must judge not according to progress but according to my own heart.”
― Leo Tolstoy, A Confession

“Aside from cutting off her head, though, I didn't really mean to kill her."
Granuaile laughed. "You know I'm on your side, but to an objective listener, that sounds like a less than convincing argument.”
― Kevin Hearne, Hunted

“For all the enlightened nations that profess a loyalty to liberty, democracy, economy and all the rest, there has long been a readiness to look for a chosen one; as Carlyle pointed out, even the French, those great anti-venerators, those relentless beheaders of Great Men, worshipped Voltaire.”
― Chris Anderson, The Numbers Game: Why Everything You Know About Soccer Is Wrong

“Take this message to your people, you obsequious little worm,â€� I murmured. “Anyone who lays a hand on Jordan Amador will have to answer to me. Now do me a favor and go to hell.â€�
I removed my sword from his hand and then decapitated him. His severed head tumbled across the floor like a wayward bowling ball. Good riddance.
I set my sword aside, found a stool in the corner, and climbed up in front of Jordan. Her handcuffs were attached to a huge meat hook bolted into the ceiling. I lifted her off of it with great care, unsure if she had the strength to stand. As soon as her arms were free, she looped them around my shoulders and pressed her face against my neck. She was trembling, but not crying. I sank to the floor and cradled her in my lap, breathing out the last of my anger now that she was safe.
“‘M sorry,� she mumbled in a small voice. “I’m so sorry, Michael.�
I snorted. “What the hell do you have to apologize for? You got kidnapped. Pretty sure that’s not your fault.�
She shook her head, her words partially muffled as she pressed her face against my shirt. “Should’ve been stronger. I could’ve gotten you killed.�
“By Heckle and Jeckle here? Not likely.�
A shaky laugh rattled through her. She slid her fingers into the hairs along the nape of my neck and hugged me tighter. I knew from experience she didn’t want me to see her face because she knew she was only seconds away from breaking down. No one would ever accuse Jordan Amador of being a crybaby, not if she could help it. It was a ridiculous notion at best, but I indulged her anyway.
“Thank you.�
“Just doing my job. But you’re welcome.�
I smoothed the sweaty hairs away from her forehead enough to kiss it. She didn’t move away. We stayed there for a while without speaking, just clinging to each other until we felt strong enough to separate.”
― Kyoko M., The Deadly Seven

“Her head rolled but a little way from her body, and I could see her lips still moving in silent prayer for a few moments while the blood pumped outward from the body and from the head. I was stuck firm in my place by the horror of it, jarred loose only by the clattering of Nan Zouche and Alice as they ran up the stairs with linen. I quickly leaned down and picked up her head, eyes still open and aware as the linen slipped from them, as they looked at me. I willed the bile back down my throat and forced myself to look into those eyes with love for the few moments before awareness dimmed from them.
Within seconds, she slipped away. I took the head into the smallest and finest of linens and carefully wrapped it, her blood running thickly between my fingers, under my nails, and staining my forearms as I sought to save her from any indignity.”
― Sandra Byrd, To Die For: A Novel of Anne Boleyn

“If you cannot speak truth at a beheading, when can you speak it?”
― Hilary Mantel

“And we saved your life, y’know,â€� Andrew said, jerking his head in Oliver’s direction. “I mean, the least you could do is thank us.â€�
“Of course!� Oliver said hastily. “Thank you very much.�
“It was really dangerous back there,� Patricia said earnestly, as though wanting to make sure he understood the severity of the situation.
“Yes, beheading is a serious business, I suppose,â€� Oliver said kindly. “I think it would have been difficult to keep on living once my head was chopped off.”
― Zeinab Alayan, Puppet Parade

“Off with his head and set it on York gates, so York may overlook the town of York.”
― William Shakespeare, King Henry VI, Part 3

“And what do you think you’re doing?â€� he demanded, feeling a large hollowness growing inside him.
“You know quite well, don’t you?� replied the crow, hopping up onto the bar with a neat flap of his wings. The bird cocked his head and looked him in the eye. “Don’t tell me an Irishman like you, born and bred in the old country, has forgotten the tale of Cú Chulainn?�
“’Tisn’t the sort of thing you can forget,� he told the crow. “Especially that statue in the Dublin General Post Office. A handsome piece of work that is, illustrating how Cú Chulainn knew death was near and tied himself to a post so he could die standing upright, like the hero he was.�
“Cú Chulainn was a hero indeed,� admitted the crow. “And his enemies couldn’t kill him until the Morrighan lit on his shoulder, stealing his strength, weakening him…�
“Right you are. The Morrighan,� he said. The very thought of that fearsome warrior goddess, with her crimson cloak and chariot, set his heart to pounding in his bony old chest.
“And what form did the Morrighan take, might I ask?� inquired the bird.
“A crow,� he said, feeling a great trembling overtake him. “So is that it? Are you the Morrighan come for me?�
“What do you think Daniel Malone?”
― Leslie Meier, St. Patrick's Day Murder

“C’mon, Barney,â€� said Lucy. “Can’t you give me something for the paper? A body in the water is big news.â€�
Lowering his voice so only she could hear, he said, “It’s Old Dan. At least I think it is. It’s hard to tell.�
“The body’s decomposed?� she asked.
“You could say that.�
“His face is gone?� Lucy knew that was common when a body had been in the water. Crabs and fish usually started with the bare skin of the face and hands.
“More than his face,â€� said Barney. “His whole head’s gone.”
― Leslie Meier, St. Patrick's Day Murder

“You know what I think? I think you need some chocolate,â€� said Lucy. “I know I could sure use some. “It’s not every day that a headless body turns up and I have to cover it.”
― Leslie Meier, St. Patrick's Day Murder

“My cell service didn’t return all night and all through the next day. It was like living in ancient times, with mead and beheadings and blacksmiths.”
― Penny Reid, Homecoming King