Author: Epitaph Page 2

Father and Mother and I choose to be buried asunder. Father and Mother here, and I buried yonder.

Samuel Gardner was blind in one eye and in a moment of confusion he stepped out of a receiving and discharging door in one of the warehouses into the ineffable glories of the celestial sphere.

Here lies interr'd a man o' micht, they ca'd him Malcolm Downie; he lost his life ae market night, by fa'ing aff his pownie. [pony] Aged 37 Years.

To the memory of Ric Richards who by a gangrene first lost a toe, then a leg and lastly his life.

Here lies the body of Emily White, she signalled left, and then turned right.

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.

Here lies the body of Thomas Kemp, Who lived by wool and died by hemp

He called Bill Smith a liar

Leslie Nielsen (1926 – 2010) “Let ‘er rip”

Let me out of here !!!

Life is a jest, and all things show it; I thought so once and now I know it.

Poor Betty Conway, she drank lemonade at a masquerade, So now she's dead and gone away.

This tombstone is a milestone – Hah! how so? – Because beneath lies Miles – Who's Miles below; – A little man he was, a dwarf in size, – But now stretch’d out, at least Miles long he lies. – His grave though small, contains a space so wide, – It has Miles in breadth, and Miles in length beside.

Faults I May Have – Being Wrong is Not One of Them

Paul Lennis Swank – Here under the dung of cows and sheep, lies an old highclimber fast asleep. His trees all topped and his lines all hung. They say the old rascal died full of rum.

If Heaven be pleased when sinners cease to sin, if Hell be pleased when sinners enter in, if Earth be pleased when ridded of a knave, then all are pleased for Coleman’s in his grave.

"Here lies my husband – what else is new"

Here lies Gilles. He used no net, Knew no fear. He made a misstep And wound up here

Here lies the body of Arkansas Jim. We made the mistake, but the joke's on him.

Here rests an old woman who always was tired, for she lived in a house where no help was hired; Her very last words were, “My friends I am goin*, to a land where there's nothin' of washin' or sewin', and everything there shall be just to ray wishes, for where they don't eat there's no washin' of dishes; the land with sweet anthems is constantly ringin', but having no voice I'll get clear of the singin'." She folded her hands, her latest endeavor, and whispered, "Oh nothin', sweet nothin forever."

HA! HA! I’m Pushing Up Daisies!!!