Subject: Epitaphs (Page 27)

Of him within, nought e'er gratis was had, that you read this so cheap now makes him sad.

Epitaphs

He married five wives, Whom he survived. At the age of 93 he walked to London, to seek a sixth but died before he found her.

Epitaphs

… Here lie the bones of Sophie Jones; for her death held no terrors. She was born a maid and died a maid. No hits, no runs, no heirs.

Epitaphs

G. Winch, the brewer, lies buried here. In life he was both hale and stout. Death brought him to his bitter bier. Now in heaven he hops about.

Epitaphs

Here lie the remains of Thomas Woodhen. The most amiable of husbands And excellent of men. His real name was Woodcock, But it wouldn't come in rhyme.

Epitaphs

He is not here – But only his pod; He shelled out his peas – And went to his God.

Epitaphs

Here lies the darling of his time – Mitchel expired in his prime. – Who four years short of forty seven – Was found full ripe and plucked for Heaven.

Epitaphs

An epitaph is a belated advertisement for a line of goods that has been discontinued.

(1876 – 1944) American author, humorist & columnist
Death Epitaphs

Ingenious youth, thou art laid in dust. Thy friends, for thee, in tears did burst.

Epitaphs

Here lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery free, Who long was a bookseller's hack. He led such a damnable life in this world I don't think he'll ever come back.

Epitaphs

My wife lies here. All my tears cannot bring her back, Therefore, I weep.

Epitaphs

This Empty Urn is Sacred to the Memory of John Revere Who Died Abroad in Finistere: If He Had Lived He Would Have Been Buried Here.

Epitaphs

3.14159265358979323846264338327950288…,

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of John Smith. Buried in the cloisters. If he don't jump at the last trump, call, Oysters!

Epitaphs

Looked up the elevator shaft to see if the car was on the way down – it was.

Epitaphs

Stop, reader, pray and read my gate. What caused my life to terminate. For thieves by night when in my bed Broke in my house and shot me dead.

Epitaphs

Here lies Robert Trollope Who made yon stones roll up. When death took his soul up His body filled this hole up.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Jonathan Ground, who was lost at sea and never found.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Johnny Haskell, A lying, thieving, cheating rascal; He always lied, and now he lies, He has no soul and cannot rise.

Epitaphs

Here lies poor but honest Bryan Tunstall. He was a most expert angler until Death envious of his art, threw out his line hooked him, and landed him here the 21st day of April, 1790

Epitaphs

My father and mother were both insane – I inherited the terrible stain. – My grandfather, grandmother, aunts and uncles – Were lunatics all, and yet died of carbuncles.

Epitaphs