Funeral Urn Quotes

The world is running out of good places for ashes.
The Jade Rabbit ~ Mark Matthews

Have you ever heard the Hungarian national anthem? No? Good for you! I wouldn't recommend it at all. Unless you are looking for inspiration for your suicide attempt. If it is not just an attempt but you are deadly serious about your suicide then I strongly recommend you not only read the lyrics but listen to the music too. The most mournful funeral song sounds jolly compared to it. Other nations have inspiring anthems like 'God Save the Queen' or the 'La Marseillaise' or 'The StarSpangled Banner', and their lyrics are about victory and proudness like 'Russia – our sacred homeland, Russia – our beloved country' or 'Germany, Germany above everything, Above everything in the world!' But what about the Hungarian anthem? It starts with 'O Lord, bless the Hungarian' and then follow eight long and painful stanzas about our 'slave yoke' and 'funeral urn' and 'the corpses of our defeated army' and 'groans of death, weeping' and finally it finishes with 'Pity, O Lord, the Hungarians they who have suffered for all sins of the past and of the future!' Yes, of the future too. ~ Angela Kiss

Death is a mighty mediator. There all the flames of rage are extinguished, hatred is appeased, and angelic pity, like a weeping sister, bends with gentle and close embrace over the funeral urn. ~ Friedrich Schiller

Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look
In the pages of my book;
And as these thy hand doth turn,
Know here is my funeral urn. ~ Adelaide Crapsey

All these last offices and ceremonies that concern the dead, the careful funeral arrangements, and the equipment of the tomb, and the pomp of obsequies, are rather the solace of the living than the comfort of the dead. ~ Augustine Of Hippo

Funeral: a pageant whereby we attest our respect for the dead by enriching the undertaker, and strengthen our grief by an expenditure that deepens our groans and doubles our tears. ~ Ambrose Bierce

You can have money piled to the ceiling but the size of your funeral is still going to depend on the weather. ~ Chuck Tanner

We just found out my little brother has a peanut allergy, which is very serious I know. But still I feel like my parents are totally overreacting - they caught me eating a tiny little bag of airline peanuts and they kicked me out of his funeral. ~ Anthony Jeselnik

I seldom go into a natural history museum without feeling as if I were attending a funeral. ~ John Burroughs

Hart having arrived before them, insisted they lift at least one glass to old Mrs. McCray. "May she, her husband, and our father be bullying one another in the great beyond."
"I hope they enjoy it", Mac said lifting his glass. His cut crystal goblet held tea, not whiskey. Mac now drank no alcohol of any kind.
"Confusion to them all," Cam said, joining the toast. ~ Jennifer Ashley

Have just been run over by tram-car at Patriarch's Ponds funeral Friday three pm come. Berlioz. ~ Mikhail Bulgakov

A black suit always goes well at a funeral. ~ Allan Dare Pearce

What the hell are you doing here? You weren't on the guest list. Hell, you people aren't on anybody's guest list. If you turned up at a funeral, the corpse would walk out on you. ~ Simon R. Green

A woman may be called a wife and mother for most of her life, while a man is called a husband and father only at his funeral. ~ Barbara Holland

Yeah, I can imagine with the funeral and all, this is the last thing you want to be dealing with right now. Like I said, my condolences." Mayhew took his own deep breath, his far more raspy. "We've got a nutshell, but we're still filling in some blanks. You're not the first person in the county to have this kind of thing happen. We suspect it's a gang of young males who read the obituaries, find out when the funerals are, then Google Earth the house and figure out whether it's worth robbing. ~ Karin Slaughter

Dr Silay said the poor girl should have a Sunni Muslim funeral, but he thinks the family were probably secretly Yazidi, because she said you were her Peacock Angel," Joannes said.
"She said crazy things like that," I said. "What's the difference between Muslim and Yazidi?"
"Well, Muslims here refer to Yazidi as devil worshippers, but that's too simple, a lot of cultural baggage, as always," Joannes said. "And I'm no expert, but I think their God is much like anyone else's. They don't believe in an evil entity like Satan, they believe all evil is man made, but we have the choice to be good or evil. The Peacock Angel embodies all that is good, a representation of God, so she must have really respected you. And I think they have some form of reincarnation too, not sure about that. I'm sorry for my hostility towards you last night, you didn't deserve it," Joannes said. ~ Gerard Cappa

Grief," she writes, is "a whisper in the world and a clamor within. More than sex, more than faith, even more than its usher death, grief is unspoken, publicly ignored except for those moments at the funeral that are over too quickly." - Sandberg sharing Anna Quindlen's take on how society conceals grief ~ Sheryl Sandberg

I've lost both parents in the last two years, so you pick up on that stuff. That's the most terrible thing about being an author - standing there at your mother's funeral, but you don't switch the author off. So your own innermost thoughts are grist for the mill. ~ Terry Pratchett

In perpetuum, frater, ave atque vale. (Forever and ever, brother, hail and farewell.) ~ Catullus

Every victory accomplished with weapons is a funeral that should be mourned. ~ Wayne W. Dyer

Denise would never get over it. She knew that. Tommy's bones at the bottom of the well. She and Henry had spent some time with those bones. When the police had finished testing and tagging and photohgraphing them the funeral parlor had given them time before the burial. She'd clutched them to her chest. Run her fingertips along the smooth sockets that had held his shining eyes. There but not there.

Some part of her wanted those bones. Wanted to put the femurs under her pillow at night when she went to sleep. To carry his skull around in her purse so she'd be with him always.

She understood now how people went crazy and did crazy things. ~ Sharon Guskin

The kids came with me to the church. It was the first time they'd gone to a funeral of someone they knew well.
Tears flowed down Angel's face as the ceremony came to an end. We slipped out together to the restroom before going on to the cemetery.
"Mom," she said, leaning against the stall. "Daddy keeps saying he's sorry. Why does he say that?"
"I don't know, honey." I had no doubt she was hearing her dad--their connection was so strong it surely would survive even death. "I don't know if he's sorry that he can't hold you, or that he's not there. But I'm glad you're hearing him."
"Yes. ~ Taya Kyle

What remains of the dead? What remains of every one of us?

Tombstones sink in, moss covers them, and after a few centuries the name can no longer be read. Every forgotten grave is designated a new corpse.

As the generations passed, remembrance of the dead diminished until it was forgotten. What was called everlasting peace only lasted half a century. The bones were disturbed as the graveyards were mulched in to suburbs.

The earth had become too small, for the living and the dead. In half a century a funeral had become a luxury that only few could afford who had died before judgment day. But who cares about a single body when the whole planet is dying.

[...]

Earlier the remains of humanity had only had the right to be there as long as the living remembered them. A human being remembers their relatives, their friends and colleagues. But his conscience only reached back three generations before it faded away. Just more then fifty years.

With the same ease, you let the picture of our grandfather or your friend from school out of our conscience into absolute nothingness. The memories of a human can last longer than the bones, but as soon as the last one who remembered us has passed we dissolve with time.

[...]

Back then there was almost no more space in the thick family album for old and brown turned pictures, but almost nobody that looked through it could say for sure who was on the photos. ~ Dmitry Glukhovsky

Lay these Bones in an unworthy Urn,
Tombless, with no Remembrance over them. ~ William Shakespeare

Be careful, Benjamin. I would hate to have to work on a eulogy to read at your funeral."
"Shit, just say I was a dumb bastard with weird taste in men and leave it at that."
Nik nodded seriously. "That would work. ~ John Wiltshire

[Speaker Reed's] wit was brilliant and usually cruel ... Asked to attend the funeral of a political enemy, he refused, but that does not mean to say I do not heartily approve of it. ~ Edmund Morris

She's coming here? I knew she was on her way to New Orleans, but I thought we'd have the service at a funeral home. Betts slung the dishrag over her shoulder. This was why her mother hadn't wanted help planning the service - Gigi's final farewell was to be the ultimate fuck-you. It was wrong. It was a sacrilege. ~ Katie Graykowski

I'm fairly confident that if I died tomorrow, Don would find a way to preserve me until the season was over and he had time for a nice funeral. ~ Don Shula

The Hermit
I'd gladly climb the highest steeple
To escape those middle minded people

Jet Set Wedding
I wake up screaming clutching my wedding band
The garnet ring is still a constant companion on my finger
But what happened to the marriage?

Fruitland Ave
He taught her not to love nor hate
And he my friend was double gate

The Closing
(On Death and Acceptance)
When he died the funeral took place at her bank
And sadly enough she's down to her very last frank

The Misogynist
He sits on his throne a hilltop alone
For women's neurosis cause men's psychosis

Home Sweet Home
The neurotic builds the dreamhouse
The psychotic becomes his spouse

Monogamy
I'd rather be someone's concubine, smell the honeysuckle
Taste the wine, than end up being a clinging vine

The Gour Maid
I like champagne, and french brie, and camembert
And men that don't get in my hair ~ Elissa Eaton

My desire for acceptance is one of the crosses that I carry. Each morning I have to attend a funeral. My own. I have to wake up and once again die to my desires for people's approval. ~ Lecrae Moore

The bigger question now becomes, "so what? Who cares?" You will never have an infinite number of balls and you will never have a large enough urn to hold all of them. You will never build a lamp that can turn on and off arbitrarily fast. We cannot investigate time or space past a certain smallness, except when pretending, so what are supertasks, but recreational fictions, entertaining riddles? We can ask more questions than we can answer, so what?

Well, here's what. Neanderthals. Neanderthals and humans, us, Homo sapiens, lived together in Europe for at least five thousand years. Neanderthals were strong and clever, they may have even intentionally buried their dead, but for hundreds of thousands of years, Neanderthals barely went anywhere. They pretty much just explored and spread until they reached water or some other obstacle and then stopped. Homo sapiens, on the other hand, didn't do that. They did things that make no sense crossing terrain and water without knowing what lay ahead. Svante Pääbo has worked on the Neanderthal genome at the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology and he points out that technology alone didn't allow humans to go to Madagascar, to Australia. Neanderthals built boats too. Instead, he says, there's "some madness there. How many people must have sailed out and vanished on the Pacific before you found Easter Island? I mean, it's ridiculous. And why do you do that? Is it for the glory? For immortality? For curiosity? And now ~ Michael Stevens From VSauce

Many different kinds of sprouts lay torn. Green, purple and orange leaves lay scattered across the dark soil, and the thorn fence surrounding the bed had a fist-sized hole in it. Teacher eased himself into a squat, poked at the inside of the hole. Whatever made the hole had left blood on the thorns. The sprouts looked like wispy ghosts, pale and broken. Their delicate leaves and stems were riddled with bites. Life drained out of them like water dripping from a hanging cloth, and a breeze made them dance sadly. It felt like a funeral.
Teacher picked up a gnawed berry and gently squeezed it until purple juice dripped down his thumb. He placed the berry by the plant's roots.
Chandi's small face bunched up. "Are they dead?"
"They're dying, yes." Yuvali took her hand. "But their bodies will help other plants grow. ~ B.T. Lowry

Nude women are only Art if there's an urn in it," said Fred Colon. This sounded a bit weak even to him, so he added: "Or a plinth. Both is best, o'course. It's a secret sign, see, that they put in to say that it's Art and okay to look at. ~ Terry Pratchett

Mrs. Fixer

We call her Mrs. Fixer because she fixes
Everything for everybody.
If you need a ride, you call her,
Or a meal, or a telephone committee.
She'll find you an apartment or a part-time job,
Even a date if you're in the market.
And all the time she only wants someone to love her
But she's afraid to ask.
So she fixes everything for everybody instead
And you keep calling her when you need something
And forget to tell her that you love her.
So she'll probably die lonely
And have a big funeral
And everyone will tell about
The way she fixed things all the time. ~ James Kavanaugh

Two days after my dad's funeral, my mom went on a mission. I never understood it until then
that sometimes a spy doesn't need a cover so much as she needs a shield. ~ Ally Carter

It wasn't surprising and it wasn't quite real. I kept thinking it was a bizarre mistake or a made-up story, until I called her mother, who told me how beautifully made up Marine's corpse was and urged me to see her at the funeral chapel. This with her cigarettes still in my ashtray, her hair still in my brush, her clothes still in my car, her voice still in my ears, so soon after we'd been looking at ourselves together in my mirror and she the more lithe, the more fluidly beautiful of the two ~ Rebecca Solnit

[That] my body be buried as cheaply as possible and no speeches be permitted at my funeral. ~ Charles Bradlaugh

Evenhanded fate hath but one law for small and great; the ample urn holds all men's names. ~ Horace

Never write a line you'd be ashamed to read at your own funeral. ~ L.M. Montgomery

She is at her son's funeral and her daughter is delivering a eulogy, and afterward people keep touching Heather, so much touching, everyone wants to paw at her, it is repulsive, and they are all saying, Oh, you must be so proud, Zoe spoke so beautifully, as if it's fucking school speech night, not her son's funeral, and can't you see my daughter is alone now, how can she live without her brother, she never even existed without him, and who cares if she spoke beautifully, she can't even stand, her father is holding her upright, my daughter can't even walk. ~ Liane Moriarty

NBC announced that during the summer Olympics they will set a new record by airing over 1200 hours of coverage. Which is amazing because that's 10 hours longer than the coverage of Reagan's funeral. ~ Conan O'Brien

I played a few rough versions of songs while Chad sat by, looking lost. Mia came in wearing black leather pants and a tight sweater. As I strummed the Gibson, she made her way over to the piano. She smiled and threw her hand up, waving to Chad. He smiled back and then I watched him study her as she passed. Then his dipshit, googly eyes dropped to her ass while she moved the piano bench out.

When he looked back at me, I glared at him and began strumming a dreary and much louder tune. His body sank into his chair and he dropped his head down to stare at his fidgeting hands. Mia began playing a sullen little melody in an attempt to accompany the monotonous song I was forming, and then she stopped abruptly and turned toward me.

I continued playing.

"Is this going to be a ballad?" she asked.

Without taking my eyes off of dipshit, I said, "No, baby, this is what's called a funeral march."

Chad threw his arms up and said, "I get it. I get it. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Mia asked.

"Nothing!" Chad and I both shouted.

"Let's move on," I said, arching one eyebrow at him.

Chad kept his eyes trained on either the ground or me through the rest of the session ~ Renee Carlino

Folk take a battering but, they do; they get born and they get brought up and they get fuckt. That's the story; the cot to the fucking funeral pyre. ~ James Kelman

Hand taste, however, involves something greater than mere flavor. It is the infinitely more complex experience of a food that bears the unmistakable signature of the individual who made it - the care and thought and idiosyncrasy that that person has put into the work of preparing it. Hand taste cannot be faked, Hyeon Hee insisted, and hand taste is the reason we go to all this trouble, massaging the individual leaves of each cabbage and then folding them and packing them in the urn just so. What hand taste is, I understood all at once, is the taste of love. ~ Michael Pollan

Cheerfulness is the daughter of employment; and I have known a man come home in high spirits from a funeral, merely because he has had the management of it. ~ William Cornelius Van Horne

Every 30 seconds, it transmitted portions of [a Chopin Polonaise] to tell the world that the capital was still in Polish hands. Angered by the unexpected setback, the German High Command decided to pound the stubborn citadel into submission. In round-the-clock raids, bombers knocked out flourmills, gasworks, power plants and reservoirs, then sowed the residential areas with incendiaries. One witness, passing scenes of carnage, enumerated the horrors: 'Everywhere corpses, wounded humans, dead horses . . . and hastily-dug graves.' . . . Finally food ran out, and famished Poles, as one man put it, 'cut off flesh as soon as a horse fell, leaving only the skeleton.' On September 28, Warsaw Radio replaced the polonaise with a funeral dirge.15 ~ Norman Davies

He has been a doctor a year now and has had two patients - no, three, I think - yes, it was three; I attended their funerals. ~ Mark Twain

In some circles, admitting you love Top 40 radio is tantamount to bragging you gave your grandmother the clap, in church, in the front row at your aunt's funeral, but those are the circles I avoid like the plague or, for that matter, the clap. ~ Rob Sheffield

Conduct your triumph as a funeral. ~ Laozi

Previous generations understood about death, and undoubtedly would have seen a reasonable amount of death. Once you get into the Victorian era, you might well have seen the funerals of many of your siblings before you were very old. ~ Terry Pratchett