The more death, the more birth. People are entering, others are exiting. The cry of a baby, the mourning of others. When others cry, the other are laughing and making merry. The world is mingled...

He had built his own future brick by brick around himself but there were no doors or windows, at least that was the way it seemed at the time he had thought to himself, I...

Funerals, Coffins, and Death. It’s not just a way of life; it’s also for breakfast. Yes, that is the new cereal I’m preparing to launch. Don’t mix it with milk. Pour it on formaldehyde.

Never go down to the darkest room. Stay far away from the rotting coffin. If you want to live through the night, let the devil sleep.

If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.

I never scoff at coffins, because they’re like coffee cups you can bathe in. Well, coffins are like Starbucks’ coffee cups, only they have more life inside.

Being certain one is alive isn’t something to which one pays mind. If you could ask the question, you were fine. If you could not, hopefully you had a cozy coffin.

I don’t want to own anything that won’t fit into my coffin.

When a saint is lowered in darkness of the grave, then he is in light

Whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave, let him know he has enough.

I make love like I make coffins—with my bare hands, alone in my garage. On sale through Thursday—Buy One Funeral, Get A Second One Free!

Grave is a journey not a destination

It’s all right if people think we are idiots.It’s all right if we lie face down on the earth.It’s all right if we open the coffin and climb in.

Birthday presents come in boxes, like coffins, filled with dead gratitude.

We made love like a flag draped over the coffin of a soldier. But that soldier, he fought for that flag’s enemy—he fought for the innocent people living under the shadow of that flag.

Heresy is the eternal dawn, the morning star, the glittering herald of the day. Heresy is the last and best thought. It is the perpetual New World, the unknown sea, toward which the brave all...

With six pieces of wood, I’m building a life, and my coffin.

The face of the dead man was concealed, of course, our customs not being those of the south, where corpses are carried to the grave in open coffins, that they might – one last time...

My double drags his coffin, humble slave,I, at least, am real, though changed to flesh.Far-off, I build me a church no hand can shape(“Winter Sonnets: III”)

Even though I buried our love in a coffin, it isn’t dead. No, our love is very much alive. Or at least it was yesterday, when I went to visit the cemetery.

It is my trade,” he said. “I work for the bean family, and every day there are deaths among the beans, mostly from thirst. They shrivel and die, they go blind in their one black...

I got you a birthday present. The box is the exact same size as a coffin.

We do know that we are cheated from birth to the overcharge on our coffins.

Today, a couple with ‘just married’ tags collided head-on with a hearse carrying two coffins in the back, both of a married couple that had previouslydied in a car accident.

My love has six sides, but it’s not a coffin. That’s just an optical illusion. Still, one day my love for you will be the death of me.

I think the best shaped box ever on earth is a coffin which can be handmade to escort the forever numb-hands.

The sky was growing dangerously light when I left Lestat and made my way to the secret place, below an abandoned building where I kept the iron coffin in which I lie.This is no unusual...

A coffin with wheels would make a great shopping cart. I’ll bet a hollowed-out body would hold a lot of soup.

Are you kidding? I’m supposed to put my books in this filthy tin coffin?

The money opens many doors. That of the coffin, among other things. (L’argent ouvre de nombreuses portes. – Celle du cercueil, entre autres.)

I went to visit my dad. He didn’t say a word to me. Or if he did, I couldn’t hear it through the grass, the dirt, and his coffin lid.