The most dangerous flower is one that grows on a grave. Everybody in its vicinity is dead. That’s why I hand-picked it for my mother-in-law.

We’re, ah, taking a break to evaluate things, and, um, reexamine our relationship, so I stuffed him in a closet!” I burst out in shame. Timmie’s eyes goggled.Is he still there?

My ghost is the only soul who ever comes to cry on my grave… Only the skies cried sincerely on my funeral.

Kula sana ni kujichimbia kaburi kwa meno yako mwenyewe.

Tommy asks where Carolyn is.”She’s at Cindy’s.””They live together now,” Salvador added.”Didn’t they just start dating?” Tommy asked.Tiger answered, “Yeah… A couple of WEEKS ago.”Unhappy about the news, Tommy objects to Carolyn moving in with Cindy.”That’s how it happens in our WORLD,” Salvador said. “One night you MEET, the next night you MOVE IN, and...

The dead only knows their world.

Façade. One, simple word. But, very complex portents. It’s like living a life of half-dead. You are neither fully inside a grave, nor completely out of it, beyond the oppressive calmness of the slabs, tombstones and plaques. There is one solace though, you soon discover that you are not alone in the vast graveyard of...

I always carry around a spade, because I never know when I’ll have to dig my own grave—slowly. Give me coffee or give me death. Or sleep.

I’m now ‘Doctor’ to the patients and I have to cover my ignorance by waving my arms and looking grave.

I looked upon the sea, it was to be my grave

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.

There’s nothing to catch up on. You came, you saw, you scored, you left. End of story.

Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms – just the two of us are still alive –

Yes, I lay in my grave. But if you lie in a grave long enough, you get accustomed to it and you don’t want to part from it. He had given me a pill of cyanide, He and his wife and their son also carried such pills. We all lived with death, and I want...

If I weren’t already dead, I’d have to kill myself just so I could roll over in my grave.

The greatest loss is the lost of life.

It is almost startling to hear this warning of departed time sounding among the tombs, and telling the lapse of the hour, which, like a billow, has rolled us onward towards the grave.

Body is a home, a prison and a grave.

I just got done digging a hole shaped like a human body. But I have no idea what to bury. I’ll probably hide all my love for you, like I would with any other treasure.

Don’t cry for the dead, for the dead is deaf, dumb, blind, lame, unemotional and dead.

The very thing keeping me alive is also killing me—love. No wonder the rose symbolizes both love and death. They should have a deal where if you buy a dozen roses you get a free headstone.

You’ve gotten on my last nerve.”The table went crashing into her before she could blink, and then my fist found a home inher perfectly arranged hair.

I’ll perform all the way to the grave.

John Wesley’s own grave holds the bones of many other people, including at least five ministers. One can only imagine the bickering.

At first are moving tombs on the surface of the surface of the earth; then we become static tombs in the brims of the cemetary soil; waiting to become eternal people in fellowship for God. I know there is another fellowship in heaven!

It is better to experience sorrow than happiness.Many life lessons are learnt in moments of sorrow.

When the body escaped mutilation, seldom did the heart go to the grave unscarred.

Some people die and you realize that the only mark they left on earth are the tomb stones under which they lie. The impacts you make on earth should be something worthy to improve lives.

Do all the work you can, there is enough rest in the grave.

With horror he perceived that, by uniting himself as he had with the dead, he had cut himself off from the living. Stripped of all earthly hope, bereft of every consolation, he was rendered as poor as mortal can possiblybe on this side of the grave.

Two things I ask of my God today. That my faith be hoisted high like a kite up in the sky and my fear be buried deeply like a carcass into the soil.

I missed you every minute this week and I don’t want to spend another day without you. If my mom disowns me for being with a vampire, then that’s her decision, but I’ve made mine, and I won’t apologize of back down from it.

We’re going to meet a lot of lonely people in the next week and the next month and the next year. And when they ask us what we’re doing, you can say, We’re remembering. That’s where we’ll win out in the long run. And someday we’ll remember so much that we’ll build the biggest goddamn...

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are callingFrom glen to glen, and down the mountain sideThe summer’s gone, and all the flowers are dying’Tis you, ’tis you must go and I must bide.But come ye back when summer’s in the meadowOr when the valley’s hushed and white with snow’Tis I’ll be here in sunshine...

Only on the edge of the grave can man conclude anything.

You know,” he said, his voice making me feel cold in spite of the heat, “this city can get ahold of you and pull you back no matter how hard you try to climb out. Like a grave.

I do not believe in the government of the lash, if any one of you ever expects to whip your children again, I want you to have a photograph taken of yourself when you are in the act, with your face red with vulgar anger, and the face of the little child, with eyes swimming...

Delay is not a help-mate. The cemetary is full of people who thought they could DO IT tomorrow. Do It Now!

But I was awake, sitting by the window looking down at the trailer and Mr. Zoltan’s truck. I could not sleep. That is how it is with folks my age. We take naps during the day, and then we cannot sleep at night. I think that it is because God is getting us ready for...

Ray Kroc must be turning over in his grave.

My work was done, so it was time to start digging my grave again.

Face to face marketing is like trying to dig a grave with a spoon. Kill it faster with a shovel.

It’s not like he’s going anywhere, so yeah. Now.

Astride of a grave and a difficult birth.Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps.We have time to grow old.The air is full of our cries.But habit is a great deadener.At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing.Let him sleep on.

For God to prove himself on demand, physically, would be a grave disappointment, and the strongest Christians should be considerably grateful that he chooses not to do so. The skeptic endlessly demands proof, yet God refuses to insult the true intelligence of man, the ‘6th sense’, the chief quality, the acumen which distinguishes man from...

When your health is taken away, money can do little or nothing but when your breath is taken away, money means absolutely nothing

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am in a thousand winds that blow, I am the softly falling snow. I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain. I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful...

Honey, I am going to my grave with my eyelashes and my makeup on.

If flowers were boogers, I’d pick a few big ones and flick them on your grave.

Be happy but when sad times come, know that God allow these time for self-realisation.