#grave

I try to remember, as I hear about friends getting engaged, that it's not about the ring and it's not about the wedding. It's a grave thing, getting married. And it's easy to get swept up in the wrong things. ↗

— Gwyneth Paltrow

#easy #engaged #friends #get #getting

Two aged men, that had been foes for life, Met by a grave, and wept - and in those tears They washed away the memory of their strife; Then wept again the loss of all those years. ↗

— Jean Paul

#aged #away #been #foes #grave

Every time I think that I'm getting old, and gradually going to the grave, something else happens. ↗

— Elvis Presley

#every #every time #getting #getting old #going

The museums and parks are graveyards above the ground- congealed memories of the past that act as a pretext for reality. ↗

— Robert Smithson

#act #graveyards #memories #museums #parks

An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there. ↗

— Edward Young

#angels #arm #confine #grave #legions

I shook with cold and fear, without being able to answer. After a lapse of some moments, I was again called. I made an effort to speak, and then felt the bandage which wrapped me from head to foot. It was my shroud. At last, I managed feebly to articulate, 'Who calls?' 'Tis I' said a voice. 'Who art thou?' 'I! I! I!' was the answer; and the voice grew weaker, as if it was lost in the distance; or as if it was but the icy rustle of the trees. A third time my name sounded on my ears; but now it seemed to run from tree to tree, as if it whistled in each dead branch; so that the entire cemetery repeated it with a dull sound. Then I heard a noise of wings, as if my name, pronounced in the silence, had suddenly awakened a troop of nightbirds. My hands, as if by some mysterious power, sought my face. In silence I undid the shroud which bound me, and tried to see. It seemed as if I had awakened from a long sleep. I was cold. I then recalled the dread fear which oppressed me, and the mournful images by which I was surrounded. The trees had no longer any leaves upon them, and seemed to stretch forth their bare branches like huge spectres! A single ray of moonlight which shone forth, showed me a long row of tombs, forming an horizon around me, and seeming like the steps which might lead to Heaven. All the vague voices of the night, which seemed to preside at my awakening, were full of terror. ("The Dead Man's Story") ↗

— James Hain Friswell

#graveyard #horror #terror #art

The atmosphere is always very grave when I walk into a cemetery. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#funny #grave #humor #change

By the way, is there anything sadder than toys on a grave? ↗

— Fannie Flagg

#death

Whilst the wolflets bayed, A grave was made, And then with the strokes of a silver spade, It was filled to make a mound. And for two cold days and three long nights, The father tended that holy plot; And stayed by where his wife was laid, In the grave within the ground. ↗

— Roman Payne

#burial #death #father-and-wife #grave #payne

My father was English. He date-raped my mother so she's hated English men ever since. You know my boyfriend's English, and I'm, uh, I'm half-English, which she's never been real happy about. If she finds out I'm dating someone English, she'll ah, think I' turning my back on her and becoming a foreigner.' Cathy, that's the stupidest reason I've ever heard. ↗

— Jeaniene Frost

#cat #english #grave #halfway #dating