Author: Epitaph Page 16

Here's to Johnny quite a guy. Very sad he had to die. All was well could not be better, Till he wrote my girl a letter.

Conflict Epitaphs Girlfriends Killing

She was first cousin to Lady Jones. – And of such is the kingdom of heaven. – Amen.

Epitaphs

Dinah had a little can, 'Twas filled with kerosine. And soon among the twinkling stars – Dynamite Benzine.

Epitaphs

Accidentally shot as a mark of affection by his brother. After life's fever, I sleep well.

Epitaphs

Approach and read, now with your hats on, for here lies Bailie William Watson; who was famous for his thinking, and moderation in his drinking.

Epitaphs

I Was Supposed To Live To Be 102 and Be Shot By A Jealous Husband

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Our bodies are like shoes, which off we cast, physic their cobblers, and Death their last.

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Soon ripe, Soon rotten, Soon gone, Not forgotten

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 Here lies the body of Dr Hayward, a man who never voted. Of such is the kingdom of Heaven.

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Here lies an Atheist. All dressed up and no place to go.

Epitaphs

Here lies Estella – Who transported a large fortune to heaven, in acts of charity, and has gone thither to enjoy it.

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This is the last long resting place, Of Aunt Jemima Jones, Her soul ascended into space, Amidst our tears and groans, She was not pleasing to the eye, Nor had she any brain, And when she talked twas through her nose, Which gave her friends much pain, But still we feel that she was worth, The money that was spent, upon the coffin, hearse and stone (The funeral plumes were lent).

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Here lies Sir John Guise: No one laughs, no one cries: Where he's gone, and how he fares, No one knows, and no one cares.

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Curiosity did not kill this cat.

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Here lies a man who all his mortal life, spent mending clocks, but could not mend his wife. The larum of his bell was ne’er so shrill as was her tongue, aye, clacking like a mill. But now he’s gone – oh whither none can tell, but hope beyond the sound of Matty’s bell.

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We all have a debt – To nature due – I've paid mine – And so must you.

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Agreeable to the memory of Mrs Alinda Tewksbury. She was not a beleiver [sic] in the Christian idolitry.

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Slip McVey – He might a be here today – But rum, whisky an a bad gun – Put him away.

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Behold! I come as a thief. – Death loves a shining mark. – In this case he had it.

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Fhebe Sprague. – In the sixteenth year of her age, – Natively quick and spry – As all young people be, – When God commands them down to dust, – How quick they drop you see.

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Cold is my bed, but oh, I love it, – for colder are my friends above it.

Epitaphs