Quotes About Burial

Today in the United States, corpses that are unclaimed or unidentified or that no family member or friend can afford to bury are generally buried in mass graves. In Chicago, Illinois, they are buried in groups of about thirty-five in a memorial park. In New York City they are ferried to Hart Island for burial in a mass grave. These free burial sites are typically known as potter's fields.

Anyway, they took her body to McBurney's Funeral Home in Motley. They'll be planting her tomorrow.

Camino a tu tumba, aún mantendrás la boca abierta para preguntar: ¿Qué es lo que he hecho?. Y serás enterrado así, con la boca abierta. Y nunca podré explicártelo, pensó Buckman. Sólo podré decirte una cosa: no llames jamás la atención de las autoridades. No nos intereses nunca. No hagas que deseemos saber cosas acerca de ti.

Janie starched and ironed her face and came set in the funeral behind her veil. It was like a wall of stone and steel. The funeral was going on outside. All things concerning death and burial were said and done. Finish. End. Never-more. Darkness. Deep hole. Dissolution. Eternity. Weeping and wailing outside. Inside the expensive black folds were resurrection and life.

Miserable, sullen men, black and white under guard had to keep on searching for bodies and digging graves. A huge ditch was dug across the white cemetery and a big ditch was opened across the black graveyard. Plenty

One cannot conceive of grander burial than that which mighty mountains bend, crack and shatter to make. Or a nobler tomb than the great upper basin of Denali.

Then these lynchers went quietly away and the bodies of the woman and three men were taken out and buried with as little ceremony as men would bury hogs.

One of them hasn't got a uniform on or plainclothes either like the rest. He has on the white coat that is my nightmare and my horror. And in the crotch of one arm he is upending two long poles intertwined with canvas. The long-drawn-out death within life. The burial-alive of the mind, covering it over with fresh graveyard earth each time it tries to struggle through to the light. In this kind of death you never finish dying. ("New York Blues")

He's dead, Walt. Like you always say, 'Buried in a shallow grave and shit off a cliff by a coyote.

No one likes to talk about the positive parts of getting older and aging into orphanhood, how with your parents you often bury a lot of things you were never able to confront or fix or let go of.

Out the kitchen window, in the cool autumn breeze between where I sat and our family burial ground, I felt for an instant I could see time moving in the air. I knew I was being foolish but it struck me as odd that time never went backward except in the fragile structure of memory.

Hannah grabbed the scoop and exhumed the item that Moishe had buried. It wasn't a mouse, or a part of a mouse. It wasn't even a cricket, or a moth. It was a pristine nugget of his new senior cat food. Suddenly suspicious, she dug around a bit in the litter box, uncovering more evidence of Moishe's distaste. By his choice of burial spot, her cat was making a graphic comment about the palatability of his dinner.

Matamos o tempo; o tempo nos enterra.

When asked to contribute ten dollars to a lawyer's funeral I said: "Here's fifty. Bury five of them."

Home is where the heart is, until we get a chance to bury it. Home is where the heart pulled the nails out of its feet, and fled.

We had a death pact, and I have to keep my half of the bargain. Please bury me next to my baby in my leather jacket, jeans and motorcycle boots. Goodbye.

Leisure without literature is death and burial alive.

Stephen King, Pet Sematary

Be of good cheer, then, my dear Crito, and say that you are burying my body only

The singing wasn't the hopscotch-jumprope-happy kind. This was the kind of singing that, if you tracked it to its source, you might find a little girl in a moldy old burial dress, her skin pitted & green, with lots of coffin splinters & dirt between her teeth... ...like a mermaid luring idiot sailors...Winny wasn't a sailor, & he wasn't old enough to get all sexed up by some hot siren.

BETWEEN BIRTH AND BURIAL, WE FIND OURSELVES in a comedy of mysteries. If you don't think life is mysterious, if you believe you have it all mapped out, you aren't paying attention or you've anesthetized yourself with booze or drugs, or with a comforting ideology. And if you don't think life's a comedy—well, friend, you might as well hurry along to that burial. The rest of us need people with whom we can laugh. In

Between birth and burial, we find ourselves in a comedy of mysteries. If you don't think life is mysterious, if you believe you have it all mapped out, you aren't paying attention or you've anesthetized yourself with booze or drugs, or with a comforting ideology.

Between birth and burial, we find ourselves in a comedy of mysteries. If you don't think life is mysterious, if you believe you have it all mapped out, you aren't paying attention or you've anesthetized yourself with booze or drugs, or with a comforting ideology. And if you don't think life's a comedy—well, friend, you might as well hurry along to that burial. The rest of us need people with whom we can laugh.

beyond that image conjured by Poe's famous story, "The Premature Burial