Having 'Oscar winner' on your tombstone is a great thing.
The Body of B. Franklin, Printer Like the Cover of an old Book Its Contents turn out And Stript of its Lettering & Guilding Lies here. Food for Worms For, it will as he believed appear once more In a new and more elegant Edition corrected and improved By the Author.
You know, I've seen a lot of people walkin' 'roundWith tombstones in their eyesBut the pusher don't careAh, if you live or if you die
Paintings, like tombstones, will last a good five hundred years, well into twenty or thirty generations.
I have tried my best to give the nation everything I had in me. There are probably a million people who could have done the job better than I did it, but I had the job and I always quote an epitaph on a tombstone in a cemetery in Tombstone, Arizona: "Here lies Jack Williams. He done his damndest."
I am a worker, a tombstone mason, anxious to pleace averyburies and jully glad when Christmas comes his once ayear.
Had I to carve an inscription on my tombstone I would ask for none other than "The Individual."
Here lies Walter Winchell in the dirt he loved so well.
Pard, we will meet again in the Happy Hunting Ground To part no more, Goodbye
Surely with as good reason as had Archimedes to have the cylinder, cone and sphere engraved on his tombstone might our distinguished countrymen leave testamentary directions for the cubic eikosiheptagram to be engraved on theirs. Spirit of the Universe! wither are we drifting, and when, where, and how is all this to end?
The act of writing is for me often nothing more than the secret or conscious desire to carve words on a tombstone: to the memory of a town forever vanished, to the memory of a childhood in exile, to the memory of all those I loved and who, before I could tell them I loved them, went away.
In case my life should end with the cannibals, I hope they will write on my tombstone, 'We have eaten Dr. Schweitzer. He was good to the end.'
I conceive disgust at these impertinent and misbecoming familiarities inscribed upon your ordinary tombstone.
I will not be back after these messages
I know it is more agreeable to walk upon carpets than to lie upon dungeon floors, I know it is pleasant to have all the comforts and luxuries of civilization; but he who cares only for these things is worth no more than a butterfly, contented and thoughtless, upon a morning flower; and who ever thought of rearing a tombstone to a last summer's butterfly?
I conceive disgust at those impertinent and misbecoming familiarities, inscribed upon your ordinary tombstones. Every dead man must take upon himself to be lecturing me with his odious truism, that "such as he now is, I must shortly be." Not so shortly, friend, perhaps, as thou imaginest. In the meantime I am alive. I move about. I am worth twenty of thee. Know thy betters!
I want one word on my tombstone - dancer.
Good Night Sweet Prince and a flight of angels sing to thy rest.
His star will forever shine.
A Gentle Man and a Gentleman.
No one has yet had the courage to memorialize his wealth on his tombstone. A dollar mark would not look well there.
"The Entertainer" He did it all.
Sleep after toyle, port after stormie seas, Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.
Your next SMS will probably be around longer, and remain more legible, than your tombstone. For, unlike your tombstone or even your mortal coil, your texts may be worth something.
On my tombstone they will carve, "IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME.
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