Grave Stones Quotes

She felt as if the grave stones were whispering those names to her as she walked past ... Those stones that bore no names seemed like closed mouths, sad mouths that forgotten how to speak. But perhaps the dead didn't mind what their names had once been? ~ Cornelia Funke

We live, we die, and like the grass and trees, renew ourselves from the soft earth of the grave. Stones crumble and decay, faiths grow old and they are forgotten, but new beliefs are born. The faith of the villages is dust now ... but it will grow again ... like the trees. ~ Chief Joseph

When we see the many grave-stones which have fallen in, which have been defaced by the footsteps of the congregation, which lie buried under the ruins of the churches, that have themselves crumbled together over them; we may fancy the life after death to be as a second life, into which man enters in the figure, or the picture or the inscription, and lives longer there than when he was really alive. But this figure also, this second existence, dies out too, sooner or later. Time will not allow himself to be cheated of his rights with the monuments of men or with themselves. ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Up until I was thirty years old I was your standard issue Christian- the kind christian schools and churches in our town pounded out year after year like spiritual Model-T's, mostly in one color-beige. We were covenant children, so we figured we came with a cradle-to-grave, salvational warrantee. ~ Clare De Graaf

From across her husband's open grave I had thought she exuded a certain foxy mystique, but now, to my disappointment, she looked just like every other mother I knew. ~ Alex George

And what has become of it, where is that onetime love? Now it is the grave of a bird, a drop of black quartz, a chunk of wood eroded by the rain. ~ Pablo Neruda

You can Live in your Cave or Dance to your Grave.-RVM ~ R.v.m.

And I flunked anger management the moment I put the counselor through a stone wall. You might want to keep that in mind.
[Thorn] ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

So Anna did not blame the women of her time for what they had created; it was different only in kind from what she had made herself. And if the old soldiers wanted only to forgive, Anna understood that, too, though in her own memory she could no longer find anything that needed forgiving. In the sunlight by her cousin's grave, she would touch the black ostrich plume in her hat - the plume that, like herself, grew a little older and little more frayed every year - and think about what all of it meant to her. Down the hill slept the soldiers, and she would visit certain of them in a little while, and the thought of them - their faces, their voices, their particular ways - always made her smile. General Nathan Bedford Forrest himself told her once that she had seen the last of a great army, but he was wrong in that, for they still moved out there in the sunlight, all of them. He was right about one thing though: there was no shame in it, not ever. ~ Howard Bahr

He'd seen the deadness in her eyes that night in the tunnels, along with the wrath and exhaustion and sorrow. He'd see her go over the edge when Nehemia died, and knew what she'd done to Grave in retribution. He didn't doubt for one heartbeat that she could snap again. There was such glittering darkness in her, an endless rift straight through her core. Nehemia's death had shattered her. What he had done, his role in that death, had shattered her, too. He just prayed she could piece herself back together again. ~ Sarah J. Maas

If you live to seek revenge, dig a grave for two. ANCIENT JEWISH PROVERB ~ Daniel Silva

Maybe the Sea of Flames never existed at all, maybe curses aren't real, maybe her father is right: Earth is all magma and continental crust and ocean. Gravity and time. Stones are just stones and rain is just rain and misfortune is just bad ~ Anthony Doerr

If my father was alive to hear that, he'd turn over in his grave. ~ Yogi Berra

Somewhere there was once a Flower, a Stone, a Crystal, a Queen, a King, a Palace, a Lover and his Beloved, and this was long ago, on an Island somewhere in the ocean 5,000 years ago ... Such is Love, the Mystic Flower of the Soul. This is the Center, the Self. ~ Carl Jung

And there is no harm in loving a stranger. In fact, it is more exciting to love a stranger. When you were not together, there was great attraction. The more you have been together, the more the attraction has become dull. The more you have become known to each other, superficially, the less is the excitement. Life becomes very soon a routine. People go on repeating the same thing, again and again. If you look at the faces of people in the world, you will be surprised: Why do all these people look so sad? Why do their eyes look as if they have lost all hope? The reason is simple; the reason is repetition. Man is intelligent; repetition creates boredom. Boredom brings a sadness because one knows what is going to happen tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow ... until one goes into the grave, it will be the same, the same story. Finkelstein ~ Osho

All too frequently in the women's movement it was assumed one could be free of sexist thinking by simply adopting the appropriate feminist rhetoric; it was further assumed that identifying oneself as oppressed freed one from being an oppressor. To a very grave extent such thinking prevented white feminists from understanding and overcoming their own sexist-racist attitudes toward black women. They could pay lip-service to the idea of sisterhood and solidarity between women but at the same time dismiss black women. Just ~ Bell Hooks

I fell into hip-hop right from the beginning. I was a teenager in the '60s, so I was putting all my pocket money into buying LPs. I followed the ascent of the Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and Stevie Wonder. I followed popular music very closely, and I've never stopped. ~ Simon De Pury

It is of the utmost importance to us to be kept humble. Consciousness of self-importance is a hateful delusion, but one into which we fall as naturally as weeds grow on a dunghill. We cannot be used of the Lord but that we also dream of personal greatness, we think ourselves almost indispensible to the church, pillars of the cause, and foundations of the temple of God. We are nothings and nobodies, but that we do not think so is very evident, for as soon as we are put on the shelf we begin anxiously to enquire, 'How will the work go on without me?' As well might the fly on the coach wheel enquire, 'How will the mails be carried without me?' Far better men have been laid in the grave without having brought the Lord's work to a standstill, and shall we fume and fret because for a little season we must lie upon the bed of languishing? God sometimes weakens our strength in a way at the precise juncture when our presence seems most needed to teach us that we are not necessary to God's work, and that when we are most useful, He can easily do without us. If this be the practical lesson, the rough schooling may be easily endured for assuredly it is beyond all things desirable that self should be kept low and the Lord alone be magnified. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Love is a grave mental illness. ~ Plato

Bless my family, kindred, friends and country, be our God and guide this day and forever for His sake, who lay down in the grave and arose again for us, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. ~ George Washington

Hope is a corpse.

A dead thing, watching you suffer with black empty eyes.

Any comfort it might have offered, long since gone to the grave. ~ Andrew Cull

Such was the unhappy condition of the Roman emperors, that, whatever might be their conduct, their fate was commonly the same. A life of pleasure or virtue, of severity or mildness, of indolence or glory, alike led to an untimely grave; and almost every reign is closed by the same disgusting repetition of treason and murder. ~ Edward Gibbon

My brother had the faith my father brought him to, and for a long time, I had Sylvia, Angela, and Gigi, the four of us sharing the weight of growing up Girl in Brooklyn, as though it was a bag of stones we passed among ourselves saying, Here. Help me carry this. ~ Jacqueline Woodson

Seventeen more days," Jessi breathed wonderingly. "God, you must be climbing the . . . er, walls . . . or whatever's in there, huh?"
"Aye."
"So, just what is in there, anyway?" She tested the glass by shaking it gently, and deemed it secure enough. It shouldn't slide now.
"Stone," he said flatly.
"And what else?"
"Stone. Gray. Of varying sizes." His voice dropped to a colorless monotone. "Fifty-two thousand nine hundred and eighty-seven stones. Twenty-seven
thousand two hundred and sixteen of them
are a slightly paler gray than the rest. Thirty-six thousand and four are more rectangular than square. There are nine hundred and eighteen that have a
vaguely hexagonal shape. Ninety-two of
them have a vein of bronze running through the face. Three are cracked. Two paces from the center is a stone that protrudes slightly above the rest, over which I tripped for the first few
centuries. Any other questions?"
Jessi flinched as his words impacted her, taking her breath away. Her chest and throat felt suddenly tight. Uh, yeah, like, how did you stay sane in
there? What kept you from going stark raving mad? How did you survive over a thousand years in such a hell?
She didn't ask because it would have been like asking a mountain why it was still standing, as it had been since the dawn of time, perhaps reshaped in subtle ways, but there, always there. Barring cataclysmic planetary upheaval, forever there. The man was strong ~ Karen Marie Moning

Truth must be the foundation stone, the cement to solidify the entire social edifice. ~ Pope John Paul II

The drop hollows out the stone not by strength, but by constant falling. ~ Plutarch

We're, ah, taking a break to evaluate things, and, um, reexamine our relationship, so I stuffed him in a closet! I burst out in shame. Timmie's eyes goggled.
Is he still there? ~ Jeaniene Frost

. I can still see Ricky on that roof... the sunlight shining in his round dark eyes, eyes dark as the onyx stones on my mother's silver bracelet. His shiny black hair was matted and shoulder-length. I wondered who cut his hair. My grandmother cut mine. ~ Jose N Harris

I ultimately decided to hold my tongue and settle instead for the comfort of ignorance. Not knowing the truth, I retained hope, and that hope I held like a smooth warm stone against my heart. ~ Catherine Gilbert Murdock

Seek wisdom in books, rare manuscripts, and cryptic poems if you will, but seek it out also in simple stones, and fragile herbs, and in the cries of wild birds. Listen to the whisperings of the wind and the roar of water if you would discover magic, for it is here that the old secrets are preserved. ~ Scott Cunningham

I send him an email back informing him that since this is his nineteenth relative in grave danger, he needs to either consult a tantric to remove a curse on his family or to simply stop lying to take extra days off. I shut my computer and hurriedly get ready to reach the office. ~ Twinkle Khanna

Then he sat down by the grave, and wept and mourned, till at last he died too; and so all were dead. ~ Jacob Grimm

But how nice it would be to know that some good Yankee woman - And there must be SOME good Yankee women. I don't care what people say, they can't all be bad! How nice it would be to know that they pulled weeds off our men's graves and brought flowers to them, even if they were enemies. If Charlie were dead in the North it would comfort me to know that someone - And I don't care what you ladies think of me," her voice broke again, "I will withdraw from both clubs and I'll - I'll pull up every weed off every Yankee's grave I can find and I'll plant flowers, too - and - I just dare anyone to stop me! ~ Margaret Mitchell

The Scythians take kannabis seed, creep in under the felts, and throw it on the red-hot stones. It smolders and sends up such billows of steam-smoke that no Greek vapor bath can surpass it. The Scythians howl with joy in these vapor-baths, which serve them instead of bathing, for they never wash their bodies with water. ~ Herodotus

One felt that the mountains are not completed. The builders are still at work. Stones come rolling and jumping from the upper scaffolding and often from the chasms one hears the thundering as the gods of the mountains change their minds. ~ J. E. H. MacDonald

The mystic cords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the angels of our nature. ~ Abraham Lincoln