Subject: Epitaphs (Page 15)

I was somebody. – Who, is no business – of yours.

Epitaphs

Here lies Dead Tom

Epitaphs

Here lies my wife in earthy mould, who when she lived did naught but scold. Peace! wake her not, for now she’s still; she had, but now I have my will.

Epitaphs

Been Here: Now Gone: Had a Good Time.

Epitaphs

Here lies one who never sacrificed his reason to superstitious God, nor ever believed that Jonah swallowed the whale.

Epitaphs

John Rose, Died Jan. 27. 1810, aged 10 years. Dr Friends and companions all, pray warning take by me, don't venture on the ice too far, as `twas the death of me.

Epitaphs

Where did everybody go?

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Learn the living from the dead, how easy breaks life's tender thread

Epitaphs

Here lies John Taggart, of honest fame, of stature low, and a leg lame; content he was with portion small, kept a shop in Wigtown, and that's all.

Epitaphs

Jack Lemmon In…

Epitaphs

Fear God, keep His Commandments, Don't attempt to climb up in a tree That's what caused the death of me!

Epitaphs

The body of Benjamin Franklin, printer like the coyer of an old book its contents torn out and stripped of its lettering and gilding, lies here food for worms. – Yet the work itself shall not be lost for it will, as he believed, appear once more in a new and more beautiful edition corrected and amended by the author.

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

Let me out of here !!!

Epitaphs

Poor Martha Snell, she's gone away. She would if she could, but she could not stay; she'd two bad legs, and a baddish cough, but her legs it was that carried her off.

Epitaphs

This is on me.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Richard Hind, – Who was neither ingenious, sober, nor kind.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Hannah Thurber. Once she talked none could curb her. Three husbands had she; all are dead. They died of earache, so ‘tis said!

Epitaphs

Here lie I, Martin Elginbrodde: Hae mercy o' my soul, Lord God; As I wad do, were I Lord God, And ye were Martin Elginbrodde.

Epitaphs

I plant these shrubs upon your grave dear wife. That something on this spot may boast of life. Shrubs must wither and all earth must rot. Shrubs may revive, but you thank heaven will not.

Epitaphs