Quotes About Memorial

J.F.K.--The Man and the Airport

Happy 110th birthday to Frank Zamboni, who left us in 1988 but still resurfaces periodically.

I did two things on my seventy-fifth birthday. I visited my wife's grave. Then I joined the army.Visiting Kathy's grave was the less dramatic of the two.

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.

Fitzhugh wasn't immune to the desire that's in most people to spray graffiti on the cold rock of the world and say "I was here and what I did counted for something.

Simple Shepherd Mortuary

What if we chose to regard the 2,973 innocents killed in the terrorist attacks of 9/11 as heroes and martyrs, 'sacrifices on the altar of freedom'?

This is what a memorial is: standing still, staring at something that isn't ther

This is what a memorial is: Standing still, staring at something that isn't there.

One of the towers has fallen. When it's our turn to leave, it's like something in me is finally willing to listen, and suddenly I understand what it means. The tower doesn't exist anymore. Something I've seen my entire life - something so much larger than my entire life - is gone. That is my first reaction. And then I think about all the people inside. There must have been people inside.

I dragged my balls across your mother's memorial cake, from cherry to cherry, and to each of the candles.

September 12, 2001 Paris Last night on TV I watched people jump from the windows of the World Trade Center.

But it's a house, not a tombstone

September 25, 2007 Paris To honor the death of Marcel Marceau I observed a minute of silence.

She'd never expressed any great interest in the outdoors, so I scattered her remains on the carpet and then vacuumed her back up.

A scar is not always a flaw. Sometimes a scar may be redemption inscribed in the flesh, a memorial to something endured, to something lost.

I stopped in St. Bernadette's Cemetery one of my favorite places... The trunks of six giant oaks rise like columns supporting a ceiling formed by their interlocking crowns. In the quiet space below, is laid out an aisle similar to those in any library. The gravestones are like rows of books bearing the names of those whose names have been blotted from the pages of life; who have been forgotten elsewhere but are remembered here.

My mother still thinks of things to do for him. Light church candles, name a star, send money to somewhere.

We buried the little chipmunk in Greta's backyard and marked the place with a stone. I said a prayer over its grave. I don't know if there is a chipmunk heaven, or for that matter, even an animal heaven, but I sure hope there is. Better still, I'd like all animals to go to our heaven. It would make the place a lot more interesting than I usually picture it.

Gravestones tell truth scarcely fourty years. Generations pass while some trees stand, and old Families last not three Oaks.' – Browne, Urn Burial, 1658

If this goes badly and I make a crater, I want it named after me!

I was sure that on my gravestone, my epitaph would read, 'He came. He saw. And then he came again.

went to take a look at it. A plaque