There will be sleeping enough in the grave.
We want gain without pain; we want the resurrection without going through the grave; we want life without experiencing death; we want a crown without going by way of the Cross. But in God's economy, the way up is down.
A grave, wherever found, preaches a short and pithy sermon to the soul.
All I am asking is that we follow the golden rule: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." This is fundamentally a moral issue, not an economic issue. Given what we know now, it is simply unethical to impose risk of grave damage on future generations just so that we can have a few more consumer products today.
Humankind has suddenly entered into a brand new relationship with our planet. Unless we quickly and profoundly change the course of our civilization, we face an immediate and grave danger of destroying the worldwide ecological system that sustains life as we know it.
To Americans Boris Vian has long been one of the hidden glories of French literature. In I Spit on Your Graves, he wrote an utterly untypical work, a blast from his Id that may well have killed him. Even now, with misogyny disguised as racial justice, its venom remains potent and disturbing, in equal parts appalling and riveting. It is a singular book, not for the squeamish, and not to be passed by.
The grave has a door on its inner side.
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
Press on! for in the grave there is no work and no device. Press on! while yet you may.
The grave is a common treasury, to which we must all be taken.
Tombs are the clothes of the dead and a grave is a plain suit; while an expensive monument is one with embroidery.
Gravestones tell truth scarce forty years.
A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things. There will be sleeping enough in the grave.
A woman would rather visit her own grave than the place where she has been young and beautiful after she is aged and ugly.
Grave was the man in years, in looks, in word, his locks were grey, yet was his courage green.
The human animal dances wildest on the edge of the grave.
Never the grave gives back what it has won!
If you strike at, imprison, or kill us, out of our prisons or graves we will still evoke a spirit that will thwart you, and perhaps, raise a force that will destroy you! We defy you! Do your worst!
Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave.
The beautiful uncut hair of graves.
Every man's road in life is marked by the grave of his personal likings.
We adorn graves with flowers and redolent plants, just emblems of the life of man, which has been compared in the Holy Scriptures to those fading beauties whose roots, being buried in dishonor, rise again in glory.
I think Ill take my record of 13 goals to the grave.
We knew we were talking about spies. I knew he knew I knew. I was digging my own grave.
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