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GRAVe quotes
When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies within me; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out.
All along the pathway of life are tombstones, by the side of which we have promised to strive for Heaven.
The churchyard is the market place where all things are rated at their true value, and those who are approaching it talk of the world and its vanities with a wisdom unknown before.
The disciples found angels at the grave of him they loved, and we should always find them, too, but that our eyes are too full of tears for seeing.
We go to the grave of a friend, saying, "A man is dead," but angels throng about him, saying, "A man is bom."
A Christian graveyard is a cradle, where, in the quiet motions of the globe, Jesus rocks his sleeping children.—By and by he will wake them from their slumber, and in the arms of angels they shall be translated to the skies.
We weep over the graves of infants and the little ones taken from us by death; but an early grave may be the shortest way to heaven.
The ancients feared death; we, thanks to Christianity, fear only dying.
A grave, wherever found, preaches a short and pithy sermon to the soul.
The grave buries every error, covers every defect, extinguishes every resentment.—From its peaceful bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections.—Who can look down upon the grave of an enemy, and not feel a compunctious throb that he should have warred with the poor handful of dust that lies moldering before him.
I like that ancient Saxon phrase which calls the burial ground "God's acre!" It is just; it consecrates each grave within its walls, and breathes a benison over the sleeping dust.
O how small a portion of earth will hold us when we are dead, who ambitiously seek after the whole world while we are living.
Of all the pulpits from which the human voice is ever sent forth, there is none from which it reaches so far as from the grave.
Only the actions of the just smell sweet and blossom in the dust.
Earth's highest station ends in "Here he lies;" and "Dust to dust" concludes the noblest songs.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
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