Lily: So for the next two weeks he was basically a really clingy Edgar Allan Poe.
[flashback to Lily and Marshall's apartment:]
Marshall: The Grim Reaper beckons. I feel his icy grip around my throat, the breath of his hounds at my heels, the unrelenting rat-tat-tat of his scythe on my chamber door. And you, with your blithe request, you only hasten his inevitable triumph. Is that what you desire? Is that what you desire, Lily?