Famous Quotes - Tags - Graves

  • A man might well pray that he may not taboo or curse any portion of nature by being buried in it. More
  • And in Clonmacnois they laid the men of Teffia, More
  • And so all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
    Of my darling, my darling, my life and my... More
  • And they wrapped him up in an old cow’s hide,
    And they sunk him in the Lowland sea,
    And... More
  • And we passed to the end of a vista,
    But were stopped by the door of a tomb—
    By the... More
  • Back from that great-grandfather I have come
    to puzzle a bending gravestone for his... More
  • Bring me an axe and spade,
    Bring me a winding-sheet;
    When I my grave have made
    Let... More
  • But he whose name is graved in the white stone
    Shall last and shine when all of these are gone. More
  • Crazy idea. Me laying flowers on the grave of him, after ten years of rememberin’ to forget. More
  • Death can only be profitable: there’s no need to eat, drink, pay taxes, offend people, and... More
  • Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
    Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender,... More
  • Earth has waited for them,
    All the time of their growth
    Fretting for their decay:
    Now... More
  • Every church is a stone on the grave of a god-man: it does not want him to rise up again under... More
  • Few, few shall part, where many meet!
    The snow shall be their winding sheet,
    And every... More
  • For I thought of her grave below the hill,
    Which the sentinel cypress tree stands... More
  • For the most part, the best man’s spirit makes a fearful sprite to haunt his grave. More
  • Forget all feuds, and shed one English tear
    O’er English dust. A broken heart lies here. More
  • Friends and contemporaries should supply only the name and date, and leave it to posterity to... More
  • He with cowslips pale,
    Primrose, and purple lychnis, decked the green
    Before my... More
  • Here a pretty Baby lies
    Sung asleep with Lullabies:
    Pray be silent, and not... More
  • Here lies John Knott:
    His father was Knott before him,
    He lived Knott, died Knott, More
  • Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
    A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown,
    Fair... More
  • Here’s a wing [laughs]. What do you like, the leg or the wing, Henry, or do you still go for... More
  • His homely Northern breast and brain
    Grow to some Southern tree,
    And strange-eyed... More
  • I am sorry, but I quite forgot
    It was your resting-place.” More
  • I never lost as much but twice,
    And that was in the sod. More
  • I passed a tomb among green shades
    Where seven anemones with down-dropped heads
    Wept... More
  • I wanted the gold, and I sought it;
    I scrabbled and mucked like a slave,
    Was it famine or... More
  • If he go on too far to find a grave,
    Mostly alone he goes. More
  • If I should die, think only this of me:
    That there’s some corner of a foreign... More
  • Interred beneath this marble stone
    Lie Saunt’ring Jack and Idle Joan. More
  • It is remarkable that the dead lie everywhere under stones.... Why should the monument be so much... More
  • I’ll dance above your green, green grave
    Where you do lie beneath.” More
  • I’ll give my jewels for a set of beads,
    My gorgeous palace for a hermitage,
    ...
    And... More
  • Jack Cade, John Brown, Jesse James,
    There too I could sit down and stop for a while.
    I... More
  • Laid out for death, let thy last kindness be
    With leaves and moss-work for to cover... More
  • Lastly, his tomb
    Shall list and founder in the troughs of grass
    And none shall speak his... More
  • Lie dry, rest robbed, my beast.
    You have kicked from a dark den, leaped up the whinnying... More
  • Mark where the pressing wind shoots javelin-like
    Its skeleton shadow on the broad-backed... More
  • Morning smack of the spade that wakes up sleep,
    Shakes a desolate boy who slits his... More
  • Mortality, behold, and fear,
    What a change of flesh is here!
    Think how many royal... More
  • My dog lay dead five days without a grave More
  • My friend’s cold made-up face, granite among its flowers,
    Her undressed, operated-on,... More
  • My love lies in the gates of foam,
    The last dear wreck of shore;
    The naked sea-marsh... More
  • Nor good, nor bad, nor fools, nor wise,
    They would not learn, nor could advise:
    Without... More
  • Nothing but great antiquity can make graveyards interesting to me. I have no friends there. More
  • O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? More
  • Oh! snatch’d away in beauty’s bloom,
    On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
    But on... More
  • On her headstone you’ll find this refrain:
    ‘She died as she lived, sniffing cocaine.’ More
  • Our graves that hide us from the searching sun
    Are like drawn curtains when the play is... More
  • Out of a grave I come to tell you this,
    Out of a grave I come to quench the kiss
    That... More
  • Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards, I take the air there willingly, perhaps more... More
  • Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
    Shovel them under and let me work—
    I... More
  • Posterity will ne’er survey
    A nobler grave than this:
    Here lie the bones of... More
  • Repose you here in rest,
    Secure from worldly chances and mishaps.
    Here lurks no treason,... More
  • She hears, upon that water without sound,
    A voice that cries, “The tomb in Palestine
    Is... More
  • She saw the couches of the dead, and where the fibrous root
    Of every heart on earth infixes... More
  • Since the last one in a graveyard is believed to be the next one fated to die, funerals often end... More
  • Some sepulcher, remote, alone,
    Against whose portal she hath thrown,
    In childhood, many... More
  • Somewhere must be the grave of the young boy
    Who married her for playmate more than... More
  • Sudden and swift and light as that
    The ties gave,
    And he learned of finalities
    ... More
  • the grave,
    so humble, so willing to be beat upon
    with its awful lettering and
    the... More
  • The Knight’s bones are dust,
    And his good sword rust:—
    His soul is with the saints, I... More
  • The rarest quality in an epitaph is truth. More
  • The tombstone told when she died.
    Her two surnames stopped me still.
    A virgin married at... More
  • The villagers are untying their disguises, they are shaking hands.
    Whose is that long white... More
  • There have been some nations who could do nothing but construct tombs, and these are the only... More
  • There’s many a white hand holds an urn
    With lovers’ hearts to dust consumed. More
  • They they laid to rest the seven Kings of Tara, More
  • They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
    Uncoffined—just as found:
    His landmark is a... More
  • This quiet Dust was Gentlemen and Ladies,
    And Lads and Girls; More
  • Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
    Upon the beached verge of the salt flood,
    Who... More
  • To these, whom Death again did wed,
    This grave’s the second Marriage-bed. More
  • To Time it never seems that he is brave
    To set himself against the peaks of snow
    To lay... More
  • Tread lightly, she is near
    Under the snow,
    Speak gently, she can hear
    The daisies grow. More
  • Two graves must hide thine and my corse;
    If one might, death were no divorce. More
  • Under bare Ben Bulben’s head
    In Drumcliff churchyard Yeats is laid.
    An ancestor was... More
  • Until, on Vinegar Hill, the fatal conclave.
    Terraced thousands died, shaking scythes at... More
  • We beg one hour of death, that neither she
    With widow’s tears may live to bury me,
    Nor... More
  • Well, Mary, only six more days to go and your old Nathan will be out of the army. Haven’t... More
  • What after all are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God? More
  • When, like a running grave, time tracks you down,
    Your calm and cuddled is a scythe of... More
  • Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom and Charley,
    The weak of will, the strong of arm, the... More
  • Where are these men? Asleep beneath their grounds:
    And strangers, fond as they, their furrows... More
  • Wind goes from farm to farm in wave on wave,
    But carries no cry of what is hoped to... More
  • Yet ‘tain’t being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
    So I want you... More
  • ‘Lay me a green sod under my head,
    And another at my feet;
    And lay my bent bow at my... More
  • “... You could sit there with the stains on your shoes
    Of the fresh earth from your own... More
  • “Ah, are you digging on my grave
    My beloved one?—planting rue?” More
  • “Having reached the term of his natural life”; Mwould it not be truer to say, Having reached... More
  • “Oh tell her I lie in Kirk-land fair,
    And home shall never come.” More

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