I cannot die unless I be killed by chance, for none dare slay me." "Yet will I slay thee.

See, Gagool, mother of evil, thou art so old that thou canst no longer love thy life.

What can life be to such a hag as thou, who hast no shape, nor form, nor hair, nor teeth--hast naught, save wickedness and evil eyes?
It will be mercy to make an end of thee, Gagool." "Thou fool," shrieked the old fiend, "thou accursed fool, deemest thou that life is sweet only to the young?
It is not so, and naught thou knowest of the heart of man to think it.

To the young, indeed, death is sometimes welcome, for the young can feel.

They love and suffer, and it wrings them to see their beloved pass to the land of shadows.