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Quote by Donna AnnMarie Smith

“I wanted to know her. Know where her kindness came from. Understand her strength. Heal the hurt and pain she’d endured. I needed to hear her thoughts, make her smile, and dry her tears. Maggie was a wounded bird, and though her wings sometimes faltered, she fought her way to soar above the clouds. The flight was…beautiful.”

Quote by Donna AnnMarie Smith

Book:The Silent Cries of a Magpie
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The Silent Cries of a Magpie

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Donna AnnMarie Smith

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“Will there be anything else? Want to know my blood type? Time of the month? Social security number?” Thinking that over, I nodded. “And your astrological sign would be helpful.” “If you want to know any of that about me, it’s time you get a hobby. Maybe start a navel fluff collection, take up extreme ironing, or dress like a pirate.” “I’d make a damn fine pirate.”

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Book:The Silent Cries of a Magpie
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“Some, finding many fragments of skulls in these urns, suspected a mixture of bones; in none we searched was there cause of such conjecture, though sometimes they declined not that practice.--The ashes of Domitian were mingled with those of Julia; of Achilles with those of Patroclus. All urns contained not single ashes; without confused burnings they affectionately compounded their bones; passionately endeavouring to continue their living unions. And when distance of death denied such conjunctions, unsatisfied affections conceived some satisfaction to be neighbours in the grave, to lie urn by urn, and touch but in their manes. And many were so curious to continue their living relations, that they contrived large and family urns, wherein the ashes of their nearest friends and kindred might successively be received, at least some parcels thereof, while their collateral memorials lay in minor vessels about them.”

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“In the Jewish hypogæum and subterranean cell at Rome, was little observable beside the variety of lamps and frequent draughts of Anthony and Jerome we meet with thigh-bones and death's-heads; but the cemeterial cells of ancient Christians and martyrs were filled with draughts of Scripture stories; not declining the flourishes of cypress, palms, and olive, and the mystical figures of peacocks, doves, and cocks; but iterately affecting the portraits of Enoch, Lazarus, Jonas, and the vision of Ezekiel, as hopeful draughts, and hinting imagery of the resurrection, which is the life of the grave, and sweetens our habitations in the land of moles and pismires.”

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Book:Urne Burial
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