Graveyards Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
until-you-visit-graveyards-attakathur-2
forests-of-ebony-graveyards-to-be
graveyards-were-one-place-belladonna-never-saw-ghosts-helen-stringer
the-graveyards-are-full-indispensable-men-charles-de-gaulle
when-you-leave-desires-behind-you-will-find-graveyards-ahead-mehmet-murat-ildan
wall-streets-graveyards-are-filled-with-men-who-were-right-too-soon-william-peter-hamilton
it-is-far-better-to-be-happy-than-to-have-our-bodies-act-as-graveyards-to-animals-clement-alexandria
ive-always-considered-music-stores-to-be-graveyards-musicians
nothing-but-great-antiquity-can-make-graveyards-interesting-to-me-i-have-no-friends-there-henry-david-thoreau
loyalty-is-a-fine-quality-but-in-excess-it-fills-political-graveyards
he-liked-bookstores-libraries-too-they-had-sacred-peaceful-hush-like-graveyards-without-shadow-death-garrett-leigh
i-salute-your-level-patience-if-you-watch-these-daily-soaps-i-cannot-kill-because-theres-not-enough-space-for-graveyards-himmilicious
ive-murdered-half-town-left-you-love-notes-on-their-headstones-ill-fill-graveyards-until-i-have-you-ludo
graveyards-are-filled-with-books-that-were-never-written-songs-that-were-never-sung-words-that-were-never-spoken-things-that-were-never-done-mark-victor-hansen
the-museums-parks-are-graveyards-above-ground-congealed-memories-past-that-act-as-pretext-for-reality-robert-smithson
there-are-bones-waiting-for-names-in-graveyards-even-sun-above-us-is-dying-one-landed-repetition-light-at-time-cecilia-llompart
it-is-far-better-to-be-happy-than-to-have-your-bodies-act-as-graveyards-for-animals-accordingly-apostle-st-matthew-partook-seeds-nuts-vegetables-clement-alexandria
no-one-has-been-barred-on-account-his-race-from-fighting-dying-for-america-there-are-no-white-colored-signs-on-foxholes-graveyards-battle-john-f-kennedy
i-wanted-to-be-with-men-i-admired-rather-than-scottish-arts-council-crowd-i-spent-lot-time-in-graveyards-you-get-less-trouble-from-dead-alexander-stoddart
in-graveyards-our-patriotic-dead-are-those-who-gave-their-lives-for-liberty-pursuit-happiness-yet-their-candles-hope-still-burn-for-living-tom-baker-tom-baker-aka-the-pondering-m
at-about-age-ten-my-friends-i-discovered-joys-sitting-in-graveyards-drinking-merrydown-cider-kissing-stealing-our-elder-siblings-records-beth-orton
most-people-say-about-graveyards-oh-its-just-bunch-dead-people-its-creepy-but-for-me-theres-energy-to-it-that-it-not-creepy-dark-it-has-positive-sense-to-it-tim-burton
Silence is another element we find in classic fairy tales - girls muted by magic or sworn to silence in order to break enchantment. In "The Wild Swans, " a princess is imprisoned by her stepmother, rolled in filth, then banished from home (as her older brothers had been before her). She goes in search of her missing brothers, discovers that they've been turned into swans, whereupon the young girl vows to find a way to break the spell. A mysterious woman comes to her in a dream and tells her what to do: 'Pick the nettles that grow in graveyards, crush and spin them into thread, then weave them into coats and throw them over your brothers' backs.' The nettles burn and blister, yet she never falters: picking, spinning, weaving, working with wounded, crippled hands, determined to save her brothers. All this time she's silent. 'You must not speak, ' the dream woman has warned, 'for a single world will be like a knife plunged into your brothers' hearts.' You must not speak. That's what my stepfather said: don't speak, don't cry, don't tell. That's what my mother said as well, as we sat in hospital waiting rooms - and I obeyed, as did my brothers. We sat as still and silent as stone while my mother spun false tales to explain each break and bruise and burn. Our family moved just often enough that her stories were fresh and plausible; each new doctor believed her, and chided us children to be more careful. I never contradicted those tales. I wouldn't have dared, or wanted to. They'd send me into foster care. They'd send my young brothers away. And so we sat, and the unspoken truth was as sharp as the point of a knife.

Terri Windling
silence-is-another-element-we-find-in-classic-fairy-tales-girls-muted-by-magic-sworn-to-silence-in-order-to-break-enchantment-in-the-wild-swans-princess-is-imprisoned-by-her-step
You. Man at the machine and man in the workshop. If tomorrow they tell you you are to make no more water-pipes and saucepans but are to make steel helmets and machine-guns, then there's only one thing to do: Say NO! You. Woman at the counter and woman in the office. If tomorrow they tell you you are to fill shells and assemble telescopic sights for snipers' rifles, then there's only one thing to do: Say NO! You. Research worker in the laboratory. If tomorrow they tell you you are to invent a new death for the old life, then there's only one thing to do: Say NO! You. Priest in the pulpit. If tomorrow they tell you you are to bless murder and declare war holy, then there's only one thing to do: Say NO! You. Pilot in your aeroplane. If tomorrow they tell you you are to carry bombs over the cities, then there's only one thing to do: Say NO! You. Man of the village and man of the town. If tomorrow they come and give you your call-up papers, then there's only one thing to do: Say NO! You. Mother in Normandy and mother in the Ukraine, mother in Vancouver and in London, you on the Hwangho and on the Mississippi, you in Naples and Hamburg and Cairo and Oslo - mothers in all parts of the earth, mothers of the world, if tomorrow they tell you you are to bear new soldiers for new battles, then there's only one thing to do: Say NO! For if you do not say NO - if YOU do not say no - mothers, then: then! In the bustling hazy harbour towns the big ships will fall silent as corpses against the dead deserted quay walls, their once shimmering bodies overgrown with seaweed and barnacles, smelling of graveyards and rotten fish. The trams will lie like senseless glass-eyed cages beside the twisted steel skeleton of wires and track. The sunny juicy vine will rot on decaying hillsides, rice will dry in the withered earth, potatoes will freeze in the unploughed land and cows will stick their death-still legs into the air like overturned chairs. In the fields beside rusted ploughs the corn will be flattened like a beaten army. Then the last human creature, with mangled entrails and infected lungs, will wander around, unanswered and lonely, under the poisonous glowing sun, among the immense mass graves and devastated cities. The last human creature, withered, mad, cursing, accusing - and the terrible accusation: WHY? will die unheard on the plains, drift through the ruins, seep into the rubble of churches, fall into pools of blood, unheard, unanswered, the last animal scream of the last human animal - All this will happen tomorrow, tomorrow, perhaps, perhaps even tonight, perhaps tonight, if - if - You do not say NO.

Wolfgang Borchert
you-man-at-machine-man-in-workshop-if-tomorrow-they-tell-you-you-are-to-make-no-more-waterpipes-saucepans-but-are-to-make-steel-helmets-machineguns-then-theres-only-one-thing-to-
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