“What’s fame, after all? It can be what someone writes on your tombstone.”

“Then on your tombstone, where you only get a little bit of space to sum up your life, some wax-faced creep chisels a set of meaningless numbers instead of poetry or a secret love or the name of your favorite candy. In the end, all you get is a few words.”

“Her close friends have gathered.Lord, ain’t it a shameGrieving togetherSharing the blame.But when she was dyingLord, we let her down.There’s no use cryin’It can’t help her now.The party’s all overDrink up and go home.It’s too late to love herAnd leave her alone.Just say she was someoneLord, so far from homeWhose life was so lonesomeShe died all aloneWho dreamed pretty dreamsThat never came trueLord, why was she bornSo black and blue?Oh, why was she bornSo black and blue?Epitaph (Black And Blue) Written by: Kris KristoffersonNote: “Epitaph” is about Janis Joplin.”

“Here the whole world (stars, water, air,And field, and forest, as they wereReflected in a single mind)Like cast off clothes was left behindIn ashes, yet with hopes that she,Re-born from holy poverty,In lenten lands, hereafter mayResume them on her Easter Day.”(Epitaph for Joy Davidman)”

“I never understood why when you died, you didn’t just vanish, everything should just keep going on the way it was only you just wouldn’t be there. I always thought I’d like my own tombstone to be blank. No epitaph, and no name. Well, actually, I’d like it to say ‘figment’.”

“A tomb now suffices him for whom the world was not enough.[Alexander’s tombstone epitaph]”

“The VoyagerWe are all lonely voyagers sailing on life’s ebb tide,To a far off place were all stripling warriors have died,Sometime at eve when the tide is low,The voices call us back to the rippling water’s flow,Even though our boat sailed with love in our hearts,Neither our dreams or plans would keep heaven far apart,We drift through the hush of God’s twilight pale,With no response to our friendly hail,We raise our sails and search for majestic light,While finding company on this journey to the brighten our night,Then suddenly he pulls us through the reef’s cutting sea,Back to the place that he asked us to be,Friendly barges that were anchored so sweetly near,In silent sorrow they drop their salted tears,Shall our soul be a feast of kelp and brine,The wasted tales of wishful time,Are we a fish on a line lured with bait,Is life the grind, a heartless fate,Suddenly, “HUSH”, said the wind from afar,Have you not looked to the heavens and seen the new star,It danced on the abyss of the evening sky,The sparkle of heaven shining on high,Its whisper echoed on the ocean’s spray,From the bow to the mast they heard him say,”Hope is above, not found in the deep,I am alive in your memories and dreams when you sleep,I will greet you at sunset and with the moon’s evening smile,I will light your path home.. every last lonely mile,My friends, have no fear, my work was done well,In this life I broke the waves and rode the swell,I found faith in those that I called my crew,My love will be the compass that will see you through,So don’t look for me on the ocean’s floor to find,I’ve never left the weathered docks of your loving mind,For I am in the moon, the wind and the whale’s evening song,I am the sailor of eternity whose voyage is not gone.”

“If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl.”

“Would you like me to [kill you] now?” asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. “Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?”

“Here lies Dobby, a free elf.”

“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.”

“When I die of heart failure the next time you frighten me like that, you can put that on my gravestone—‘I didn’t mean to startle her.”

“That would be a good thing for them to cut on my tombstone: Wherever she went, including here, it was against her better judgment.”

“Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you.”