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Boy, when you are dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has read more
Boy, when you are dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a god dam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you are dead? Nobody.
How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.
How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.
It is never death because they live in your heart foever.
It is never death because they live in your heart foever.
Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before,
Advanced a stage or two upon that road
read more
Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before,
Advanced a stage or two upon that road
Which you must travel in the steps they trod.
It is as natural to die as to be born; and to a little infant,
perhaps, the one is read more
It is as natural to die as to be born; and to a little infant,
perhaps, the one is as painful as the other.
Every man dies - Not every man really lives.
Every man dies - Not every man really lives.
You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived.You can close your eyes read more
You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived.You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,or you can be full of the love you shared.You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.You can remember her only that she is gone,or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back.Or you can do what she'd want:smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
Die? I should say not, dear fellow. No Barrymore would allow such a conventional thing to happen to him.
Die? I should say not, dear fellow. No Barrymore would allow such a conventional thing to happen to him.
God is becoming bitter, he envies man his mortality.
God is becoming bitter, he envies man his mortality.