Quotes About Cemetery

cemeteries grow larger the number of defenders shrinks but the defense continues and will last to the end and even if the City falls and one of us survives he will carry the City inside him on the roads of exile he will be the City we look at the face of hunger the face of fire the face of death and the worst of them all—the face of treason and only our dreams have not been humiliated

Getting stuck in the past is like guarding a cemetery.

The massive bronze gates were wide open now, too late. Inside, the cemetery had been turned into a grotesque place gleaming with high-powered searchlights, blue flashlight flares, winking pocket torches. Uniformed men were already swarming about. Red cigarette-embers showed oddly amidst the headstones here and there. ("The Street Of Jungle Death")

Vampires don't live at all," she points out, "neither do we." She has me there. "Fine, I'll go. But when Kurt leads his minions in a march around the cemetary with our heads on sticks, don't say I didn't warn you.

Southwestern Pennsylvania is home to the National Cemetery for the Alleghenies, and we already have local schools signed up and ready to research every veteran that is buried there.

Our veterans are phenomenally important. They've given everything to us, haven't they? Everything. Do we really take care of them? I mean, for crying out loud, we can't even maintain their cemetery. We've got to do better. We have to do better.

How common is it for someone to be shot in broad daylight without a single witness?" "Not common," Burns said. "But the cemetery wasn't a heavily trafficked area.

Granite from New Hampshire has been used in construction at Arlington National Cemetery, the Library of Congress, New York's Brooklyn Bridge, and Civil War monuments throughout the country.

The cemetery of the victims of human cruelty in our century is extended to include yet another vast cemetery, that of the unborn.

The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.

He is survived by the ghost of his mother; Yetta, of Beth Something-or-other Cemetery, Neptune, New Jersey, who haunted him unceasingly during the last year of his life.

You coming or not? he repeated impatiently. I was going to say no. But then, glancing at the curtains, I thought, it's probably no more spooky out there in that cemetery than it is here in my own bedroom!

Sassenach, ¿sabías que algunos creen que la última persona que yace en un cementerio se convierte en su guardián? Debe montar guardia hasta que muere otra persona y ocupa su lugar... Sólo entonces puede descansar.

We were passing the city cemetery. Adjoining it was a field occupied only by a couple of amiable and moth-eaten horses, and a grey tower. I asked what the tower was for. My grandfather answered that it held a giant's arm.

To open the gate for me there was a gravedigger I had already met at the Star of The Sweden."I am looking for Mr. Kauderer," I said to him. He answered, " Mr. Kauderer is not here. But since the cemetery is the home of those who are not here, come in.

Boy, when you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.

When you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.

Long ago, an edict was made by the planetary government that only certain fields of land could ever be used for burial. So cemetery space is at an optimum. Hence, the Law of Decipherability.' 'Which is?' 'The law states that once the eroding hands of time and the elements have made the last names on a field's gravestones illegible, the anonymous dead may be exhumed, the bones buried in a pit, and the field reused.

The dead don't bother haunting graveyards- they are the last place on earth they need to haunt. The living do that job for them with their messy combination of grief, desire, imagination. There is nothing in this cemetery. It's just an empty field.

I told her everything I could think of, even about my father being buried in the Protestant Cemetery.

The birthplace of anarchy is the cemetery of freedom.

Anything could happen while the dead slept. Which was why some would say a woman shouldn't tread alone through a cemetery at 2:55 on a Tuesday morning in April.

we spent a sad afternoon burying her in the back garden of Francis's house, where one of Francis's aunts had an elaborate cat cemetery, complete with headstones

Ask him about the cemeteries, Dean!