Quotes About Graves

Helen declared Western civilization's lack of understanding of other peoples' customs to be the world's greatest and gravest social problem.

I don't know whether it is that I am built wrong, but I never did seem to hanker after tombstones myself. I know that the proper thing to do, when you get to a village or town, is to rush off to the churchyard, and enjoy the graves; but it is a recreation that I always deny myself. I take no interest in creeping round dim and chilly churches behind wheezy old men, and reading epitaphs. Not even the sight of a bit of cracked brass let into a stone affords me what I call real happiness.

Digging up graves is backbreaking work. So I just like that the genre of horror can embrace so many different styles and textures.

When merciless ambition, or mad zeal, has led two hosts of dupes to battlefield, That, blind, they there may dig each other's graves, And call the sad work glory.

most people never experience such a passion, that I had been incredibly, divinely fortunate to have found, in a world where most souls dig there own graves with the sharp edge of their bitter loneliness...

A resurrection waits in the future of all people, whether saved or lost, kingdom saints or the Body of Christ. 'Marvel not at this for the hour is coming, in which all that are in the graves shall hear His voice, and come forth they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation' (Jn. 528, 29).

They dig their graves under aloes because these succulents are poisonous to hyena, which might otherwise dig up the bodies and eat them. Many of the aloes here mark the grave of Zulu warriors felled at Isandlwana.

this man would rob them graves himself, being some way starved by life, bone greedy.

He was a real scientist, born curious, but I seen his crippled hand twitch while he spoke: this man would rob them graves himself, being some way starved by life, bone greedy.

The accident of a wrong turn had brought me there, and all I did by getting out of the car and entering the cemetery to find her grave was to bow to its impelling force. My mother and the other dead had been brought here by the impelling force of what was, after all, a more unlikely accident–having once lived

In my life are many windows and many graves. Sometimes they exchange roles: then a window is closed forever, then by way of a gravestone I can see very far. (Hebrew-to-English translation by Rabbi Steven Sager)

Anna thought about the men outside on the gallery. She was glad they were there; finding them smoking and talking quietly had been comforting, it was what men did in the evenings when the work was done. Of course, the work was not done, and she doubted that it ever would be. It would go on and on, even after the house was emptied of strangers, long after the wildflowers had blossomed a hundred times on their graves.

Some say the ocean roars, I hear it ever weeping. Weep, ocean, weep for those gone before. Weep, O sea, for the open graves that fill your shore.

The elephants are dancing on the graves of squeeling mice.

That we can see and understand everything just as well alive as dead, only when we're alive we don't have the time, or the peace of mind, or the inclination to see and understand what we could. We're too busy rushing to our graves.

So many ghosts, and forms of fright, Have started from their graves to-night, They have driven sleep from mine eyes away; I will go down to the chapel and pray.

Beyond the grave they will find nothing but death. But we shall keep the secret, and for their happiness we shall allure them with the reward of heaven and eternity.

rode in a state of wonder that a country could be so lush and so green; but even among this fertile wealth there was hunger. I saw it in the faces of some of the villagers, and in the fresh mounds of the graveyards. The carter was right, the balance that had been England at peace for a brief generation had been overthrown under the last king, and the new one continued the work of setting the country into turmoil. The great religious houses

I half expected cathedral bells to ring out across the city in memoriam, a carillon of joyous bells that said Someone is free at last, and simultaneously a monody of heavy bells, iron bells, as solemn as those rung for heroes and for statesmen, bells that said He is gone who was much loved. But the night was empty of all bells. There were no bells for such as us, no funerals, no crowd of mourners around our graves.

And when my spirit wants no stimulus or nourishment save music, I know it is to be sought in cemeteries: the musicians hide in the tombs; from grave to grave flute trills, harp chords answer one another.

With the smell of beer I try to get the smell of death off me. And only the smell of death will get the smell of beer off you, like all the drinkers whose graves I have to dig.

I am not so naive as to think everyone will change. There are certainly those who will go to their graves as hateful, violent racists.

Then breaking out in the bitterness of my soul, I said to myself with a grievous sigh, How can God comfort such a wretch!  I had no sooner said it, but this returned upon me, as an echo doth answer a voice: This sin is not unto death.  At which I was, as if I had been raised out of the grave, and cried out again, Lord, how couldst Thou find out such a word as this! 

He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.