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Grave Quotes

Browse 135 quotes about Grave.

Grave Quotes

“Darker and darker, he said; farther and farther yet. Death takes the good, the beautiful, and the young - and spares me. The Pestilence that wastes, the Arrow that strikes, the Sea that drowns, the Grave the closes over Love and Hope, are steps of my journey, and take me nearer and nearer to the End.”

LoveBeautifulYoungDeathHopeDarkBeautyJourneySeaYouthTragedyMortalitySparesEndGravePestilenceDrownThe SeaThe EndArrowFinThe GoodWastes
Book:The woman in white
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“Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms – just the two of us are still alive –”

LifeBeautifulDeathGirlBlackDarkDarknessAliveMysteryHorrorLivingFemaleYoung AdultScaredScaryMysteriousWomanSuspenseLiveWitchScareDeadGothicOldOccultCemeteryGraveyardSinisterLookHideGraveGothPrettyOminousGothic RomanceOccultismFortune TellingDivinationYoung Adult BookHorrifyingYoung Adult SuspenseLurkMystifyStill AliveMystifyingOld WitchStill Dead
Book:Nightmarish Sacrifice
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“Our humanity possesses needs of such depth and intensity that the whole of our humanity itself is woefully inadequate in its ability to meet those needs. And while such an amazing paradox would readily invite us to embrace the notion that something greater than us exists, we adamantly ignore any such possibility. As such, we run ourselves to a host of graves where we bury the precious parts of ourselves that should never have been buried. And I would suggest that Christmas was the time that God came so that every grave would remain empty because every need would be met.”

NeedsGodFaithHopeJesusGraceMercyChristmasBuriedGrave
Author:Craig D. Lounsbrough
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“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 rush Of beautiful birds in circling flight, I am the starshine of the night. I am in the flowers that bloom, I am in a quiet room. I am in the birds that sing, I am in each lovely thing. Do not stand at my grave bereft I am not there. I have not left.”

DeathGriefGrave
Author:Mary Elizabeth Frye
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“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 in tears and the little chin dimpled with fear, like a piece of water struck by a sudden cold wind. Have the picture taken. If that little child should die, I cannot think of a sweeter way to spend an autumn afternoon than to go out to the cemetery, when the maples are clad in tender gold, and little scarlet runners are coming, like poems of regret, from the sad heart of the earth—and sit down upon the grave and look at that photograph, and think of the flesh now dust that you beat. I tell you it is wrong; it is no way to raise children! Make your home happy. Be honest with them. Divide fairly with them in everything.”

ChildrenFearSadnessRegretAbuseAngerParentingHappyFairnessCemeteryGravePictureWhipLash
Book:The Liberty of Man, Woman and Child
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“Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen, and down the mountain side The 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 meadow Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow 'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so. And if you come, when all the flowers are dying And I am dead, as dead I well may be You'll come and find the place where I am lying And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me. And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.”

DeathLamentGrave
Author:Fred E. Weatherly
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“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 you to know that one can fall in love with death. Whoever has loved death cannot love anything else any more. When the liberation came and they told me to leave, I didn't want to go. I clung to the threshold like an ox being dragged to the slaughter. ("Hanka")”

DeathHolocaustGrave
Book:American Fantastic Tales: Terror and the Uncanny from the 1940s to Now
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“Well, some places are happy places and some aren't, and that's pretty much all you can say about the matter. But if you think on it, you soon discover that no place is totally without happiness, possibly not even the grave--but we're not going there, you and I. When we die, it just isn't going to be us. Coming around the stretch, boxed in, we're going to find a little opening, and before anybody knows what's going on, we're going to ease through, and move out, and come down to the wire all alone, and go away, hollering and laughing, uncaught again, again uncatchable.”

HappinessDeathPlacesGraveLocationsHappy Places
Book:Places Where I've Done Time
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“Throw your hands and pull up those in the valley do the hill. However, press your feet on the ground so hard that you don’t fall into the same valley together. Some people’s helping hands became their grave digging tools!”

HandsStrongFeetFood For ThoughtIsraelmore AyivorGravesHelpBe CarefulMountainsHighGraveStumbling BlocksLowBe StrongValleyHillSolidHelping HandsHigher GroundsHelp PeopleDig Your GraveDon T Fall
Book:Daily Drive 365
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“He didn’t even have time to cry out as she swept his feet out from under him, nor did he have time to raise his weapon before she crouched over his chest, the iron-coated tip of the staff at his throat. She brought her mouth close to his ear. “My name is Celaena Sardothien,” she whispered. “But it makes no difference if my name’s Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I’d still beat you, no matter what you call me.” She smiled at him as she stood. He just stared up at her, his bloody nose leaking down the side of his cheek. She took the handkerchief from her pocket and dropped it on his chest. “You can keep that,” she said before she walked off the veranda.”

GraveCelaenaTog
Book:Throne of Glass
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“Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my friend, at this place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Pozzo passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably. But in all that what truth will there be? He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the blows he received and I'll give him a carrot. (pause) 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. (Pause.) I can't go on! (Pause.) What have I said?”

GraveGodotVladimir
Author:Samuel Beckett
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“Do we reflect on life? Someday this life will be gone.”

Inspirational QuotesLife QuotesMeditationWisdom QuotesSpiritual QuotesLife And LivingReflectionWell BeingFaith QuotesLife And DeathHappiness QuotesSpiritual WisdomHealthy LivingDeath QuotesHealthy LifestyleWisdom InspirationalLoss Of LoveReflectionsGraveWellness QuotesLoss Of A ChildDont WorryHappy TimesReflection On LifeLoss Of FaithSad TimesLoss Of HopeLife And Death LifeFaith On Happier Times
Book:Think Great: Be Great!
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“The Poe Toaster by Stewart Stafford They call me The Poe Toaster, A sixty-year mourner, no boaster, With roses and cognac, I paid homage, To gothic Quarles’ eternal foggage. Some call me ghoul, stalker, graver, Obsessed fan, tombstone trader, Let him sleep unbroken, still his ghost, Tomahawk, overdue a tribute toast. Three roses; in-law, Eddy and wife, Cognac, exorbitant luxury in life, Relax, for I was kind, my friend, Pouring amontillado until the end. Why I stopped, if I'm woman or man, Are mysteries for C. Auguste Dupin, Shipwrecked on Night’s Plutonian shore, Allied with the silken darkness of yore. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

MysteryGothicHomageGraveEdgar Allan PoeMournersEdgar Allen PoeEdgar Allan Poe QuotesEdgar Allan Poe PoemThe Poe Toaster
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“After six long hours of driving and three rest stops, Tiger pulls up to a snow-topped, metal speaker box just outside the State Penitentiary's first gate in Walla Walla. As he rolls down his window and snow flies in his face, Joshua starts begging for a Happy Meal. I turn around, snapping at him. "This ISN'T MCDONALDS and YOU AREN'T HUNGRY. NOW SHUT UP BRAT." A loud scratchy masculine voice blasts out of the speaker. "CAN I HELP YOU?" Tiger leans out the window, as he answers- We're here to visit Raven Chandler. "HAVE YOU BEEN HERE BEFORE?" "Yes sir. I've been here A LOT." "WHERE'S HIS MOTHER?" "I don't know.. I haven't seen her in months." "NOT THE PRISONER'S MOTHER. THE BRAT IN THE BACK SEAT OF YOUR JEEP." "Oh- HIM-" As he turns, smiling and sticking his tongue out at Joshua, I lean towards his window to answer the guard's question. "SHE'S IN VEGAS, SIR. I'M BABYSITTING. HE'S MY GODSON." When the speaker remains disturbingly silent for far too long, I continue. "HE'S A GOOD BOY SIR. HE WON'T BE ANY TROUBLE- I SWEAR." "THAT'S RIGHT," Tiger said. "HE SWEARS ON THE LITTLE BRAT'S MOTHER'S GRAVE.”

MotherTroubleGayPrisonHappyDrivingHungrySnowPrisonerSwearDisturbingVegasMcdonaldsGay RomanceGraveBratMealRavenVisitBabysittingGay Romance EroticaJeepGod SonChandlerWalla
Book:Uninhibited From Lust To Love
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