Graves Quotes - Page 20

• As for food, half of my friends have dug their graves with their teeth.

  Chauncey Depew

  Teeth, Dieting, Half

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• Beautiful is old age—beautiful as the slow-dropping mellow autumn of a rich glorious summer. In the old man, Nature has fulfilled her work; she loads him with blessings; she fills him with the fruits of a well-spent life; and, surrounded by his children and his children's children, she rocks him softly away to a grave, to which he is followed with blessings. God forbid we should not call it beautiful.

  James Anthony Froude

  Beautiful, Summer, Children

  James Anthony Froude (1907). “Essays”

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• We speak of peace, yes, but whose peace? Poland's? Bulgaria's? The peace of the grave?

  Margaret Thatcher

  War, Cold, Speak

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• So, it becomes the devil's business to keep the Christian's spirit imprisoned. He knows that the believing and justified Christian has been raised up out of the grave of his sins. From that point on, Satan works that much harder to keep us bound and gagged, in our own grave clothes. He knows that if we continue in this kind of bondage...we are not much better off than when we were spiritually dead.

  Aiden Wilson Tozer

  Christian, Believe, Clothes

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• That the government's power under the Taft-Hartley Act to stop a strike by injunction so clearly strengthens the hand of the employer-even though it is used only when a strike threatens
  the national health, welfare, or safety-is a grave blemish and explains much of union resistance to the Act.

  Peter Drucker

  Government, Hands, Safety

  Peter F. Drucker (2011). “The New Society: The Anatomy of Industrial Order”, p.333, Transaction Publishers

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• But a day must come when the fire of youth will be quenched in my veins, when winter will dwell in my heart, when his snow flakes will whiten my locks, and his mists will dim my eyes. Then my friends will lie in their lonely grave, and I alone will remain like a solitary stalk forgotten by the reaper.

  Heinrich Heine

  Death, Lonely, Lying

  Heinrich Heine (1871). “Pictures of travel,”, p.173

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• The wealthiest places in the world are not gold mines, oil fields, diamond mines or banks. The wealthiest place is the cemetery. There lies companies that were never started, masterpieces that were never painted… In the cemetery there is buried the greatest treasure of untapped potential. There is a treasure within you that must come out. Don’t go to the grave with your treasure still within YOU.

  Myles Munroe

  Lying, Greatest Treasure, Oil

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• Friends make pretence of following to the grave but before one is in it, their minds are turned and making the best of their way back to life and living people and things they understand.

  Robert Frost

  Friendship, People, Feelings

  Robert Frost (2012). “A Boy's Will and North of Boston”, p.45, Courier Corporation

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• But the people cannot have wells, and so they take rain-water. Neither can they conveniently have cellars or graves, the town being built upon "made ground"; so they do without both, and few of the living complain, and none of the others.

  Mark Twain

  Rain, New Orleans, People

  Mark Twain (2015). “Life On The Mississippi: Mark Twain's Collections”, p.205, 谷月社

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• With the "civilized" person contentment is a myth. From the cradle to the grave they are forever longing and striving after something better, an indefinable something, some new object yet unattained.

  William Matthews

  Forever, Contentment, Longing

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• The real security of Christianity is to be found in its benevolent morality, in its exquisite adaptation to the human heart, in the facility with which its scheme accommodates itself to the capacity of every human intellect, in the consolation which it bears to the house of mourning, in the light with which it brightens the great mystery of the grave.

  Thomas B. Macaulay

  Real, Heart, Light

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• I wonder what day I shall die on - one passes year by year over one's death day, as one might pass over one's grave.

  John Henry Newman

  Death, Years, Might

  John Henry Newman, Ian Turnbull Ker, Thomas Gornall, Gerard Tracey, Francis J. McGrath (1961). “Letters and Diaries: The Vatican Council, June 1870-Dec. 1871”

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• This is a grave danger: the stoppage of information between the parts of the planet. Contemporary science knows that such stoppage is the way of entropy, of universal destruction.

  Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

  Communication, Information, Way

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• When one is already on the edge of the grave, why not resist?

  Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

  Why Not, Prison, Edges

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• Every man is grave alone.

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Men, Seriousness, Every Man

  Ralph Waldo Emerson (1961). “Journals and Miscellaneous Notebooks of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Volume II: 1822-1826”, p.268, Harvard University Press

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• Sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

  William C. Bryant

  Death, Dream, Lying

  William Cullen Bryant, “Thanatopsis”

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• The summer day is closed - the sun is set:
  Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
  The latest of whose train goes softly out
  In the red west. The green blade of the ground
  Has risen, and herds have cropped it; the young twig
  Has spread its plaited tissues to the sun;
  Flowers of the garden and the waste have blown
  And withered; seeds have fallen upon the soil,
  From bursting cells, and in their graves await
  Their resurrection. Insects from the pools
  Have filled the air awhile with humming wings,
  That now are still for ever; painted moths
  Have wandered the blue sky, and died again

  William C. Bryant

  Summer, Flower, Garden

  William Cullen Bryant, “From: An Evening Revery”

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• Earth gets its price for what Earth gives us; The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in, The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us, We bargain for the graves we lie in; Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold... 'T is heaven alone that is given away, 'T is only God may be had for the asking; There is no price set on the lavish summer, And June may be had by the poorest comer.

  James Russell Lowell

  Summer, Money, Lying

  James Russell Lowell, Nathan Haskell Dole (1893). “The Early Poems of James Russell Lowell: With Biographical Sketch”

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• Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.... [W]hat can we bequeath, Save our deposed bodies to the ground?... [N]othing can we call our own, but death... [L]et us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings: - How some have been depos'd, some slain in war; Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd.

  William Shakespeare

  Kings, War, Writing

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• The moon is hidden behind a cloud... On the leaves is a sound of falling rain... No other sounds than these I hear; The hour of midnight must be near... 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.

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Fall, Rain, Sleep

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “The Golden Legend: Iv. The Road To Hirschau”

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• The clouds were flying fast, the wind was coming up in gusts, banging some neighboring shutters that had broken loose, twirling the rusty chimney-cowls and weathercocks, and rushing round and round a confined adjacent churchyard as if it had a mind to blow the dead citizens out of their graves. The low thunder, muttering in all quarters of the sky at once, seemed to threaten vengeance for this attempted desecration, and to mutter, "Let them rest! Let them rest!

  Charles Dickens

  Blow, Clouds, Wind

  CHARLES DICKENS (1873). “LITTLE DORRIT”, p.153

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• The discovery of a grey hair when you are brushing out your whiskers of a morning—first fallen flake of the coming snows of age—is a disagreeable thing.... So are flying twinges of gout, shortness of breath on the hill-side, the fact that even the moderate use of your friend's wines at dinner upsets you. These things are disagreeable because they tell you that you are no longer young—that you have passed through youth, are now in middle age, and faring onward to the shadows in which, somewhere, a grave is hid.

  Alexander Smith

  Morning, Wine, Hair

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• When the Sun sets, shadows, that shew'd at Noon
  But small, appear most long and terrible;
  So, when we think Fate hovers o'er our Heads,
  Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds,
  Owls, Ravens, Crickets seem the watch of death,
  Nature's worst Vermine scare her God-like Sons.
  Ecchoes the very leavings of a Voice,
  Grow babling Ghosts, and call us to our Graves:
  Each Mole-hill thought swells to a huge Olympus,
  While we fantastick Dreamers heave and puff,
  And sweat with an Imagination's weight.

  John Dryden

  Fear, Fate, Son

  "Dramatik Works".

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• If I should die, and you should choose to carry on my work, you are welcome to visit my grave. Pour some water on it and shout three times. I want to hear your voice.

  Malalai Joya

  Voice, Water, Three

  Malalai Joya (2009). “A Woman Among Warlords: The Extraordinary Story of an Afghan Who Dared to Raise Her Voice”, p.229, Simon and Schuster

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• Up from the grave He arose, with a mighty triumph o'er his foes. He arose the victor from the dark domain and He lives forever with his saints to reign. He arose! He arose! Hallelujah..,Ch rist arose!

  Robert Lowry

  Dark, Forever, Triumph

  Robert Lowry, “Low In The Grave He Lay”

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