Benjamin Franklin Quotes

There'll be plenty of time to rest in the grave.

The dead they sleep a long, long sleep; The dead they rest, and their rest is deep; The dead have peace, but the living weep.

I can rest when I'm dead.

Here lies Jack Williams. He done his damndest.

The grave is, I suspect, the sole commonwealth which attains that dead flat of social equality that life in its every principle so heartily abhors.

But what is all this fear of and opposition to Oblivion? What is the matter with the soft Darkness, the Dreamless Sleep?

I should like these few words to be read over the grave when my body is placed in the earth; for though it is possible I may be present and conscious of what is going on, I shall not be able to communicate.

That death was near, I suppose I believed, but I saw it only as a rest after the day's work.

There have been hours in my unhappy life, many of them, when the contemplation of death as the end of earthly sorrow - of the grave as a resting place for the tired and worn out body - has been pleasant to dwell upon.

You'll have time to rest when you're dead.

If you are going to lower me into the grave, and I feel something is wrong, I will get up.

O Death, rock me asleep, bring me to quiet rest, let pass my weary guiltless ghost out of my careful breast.

Behind every citizen lies a graveyard.

Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!

The Young Soldier It is not death Without hereafter To one in dearth Of life and its laughter, Nor the sweet murder Dealt slow and even Unto the martyr Smiling at heaven: It is the smile Faint as a (waning) myth, Faint, and exceeding small On a boy's murdered mouth.

The grave is still the best shelter against the storms of destiny.

For if that last day does not occasion an entire extinction, but a change of abode only, what can be more desirable? And if it, on the other hand, destroys and absolutely puts an end to us, what can be preferable to having a deep sleep fall on us in the midst of the fatigues of life and, being thus overtaken, to sleep to eternity?

Sleep in a world, your final sleep has woken

. . . my bones they'll burn or bury. It'll be my death.

Death ends our woes, and the kind grave shuts up the mournful scene.

Is that what death would feel like? The nicest, warmest, heaviest never-ending nap? If that’s what it’s like, I wouldn’t mind.

Perhaps the only misplaced curiosity is that which persists in trying to find out here, on this side of death, what lies beyond the grave.

Quiet through the grave go I; or else beneath the graves I lie

In a more universal sense, we only get one thing. You know...a head stone if we're lucky; if not, green grass.

I do not choose that my grave should be dug while I am still alive.