Quote
"Ill solve equations with my right hand and write names with my left. Ill take a potato chip... and eat it! (Ep. 8)"
"Ive wanted to make him taste his own pathetic failure with all my heart. (90)"

Death Note is a Japanese manga series written by Tsugumi Ohba and illustrated by Takeshi Obata. It was serialized in Shueisha's shōnen manga magazine Weekly Shōnen Jump from December 2003 to May 2006, with its chapters collected in 12 tankōbon volumes. The story follows Light Yagami, a genius high school student who discovers a mysterious notebook, the Death Note. This notebook belonged to the sup
"Ill solve equations with my right hand and write names with my left. Ill take a potato chip... and eat it! (Ep. 8)"
"The thing I hate the most is to trample on other peoples good will. (Ep. 17)"
"As long as it doesnt kill me, college is a lot of fun. (Ep. 15)"
"I must protect my fledging Utopia."
"What? Im going to be possessed by such a poor imbecile? (71)"
"So, come on! Kill me if you can! (1)"
"yes is a pleasant country... love is a deeper season than reason"
"true lovers in each happening of their hearts live longer than all which and every who"
"What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way."
"we are engaged in a grim experiment never before attempted. We are subjecting whole populations to exposure to chemicals which animal experiments have proved to be extremely poisonous and in many cases cumulative in their effect. These exposures now begin at or before birth and-unless we change our methods-will continue through the lifetime of those now living. No one knows what the result will be, because we have no previous experience to guide us."
"pity this busy monster, manunkind, not. Progress is a comfortable disease: your victim (death and life safely beyond) plays with the bigness of his littleness"
"Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flower Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God! God! sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome voice! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!"