It’s very inconvenient because every time I finish, let’s say, a chapter of a book, I think I’m going to ring Richard and then realize: Oh, Christ, I’ve buried him. I buried him last year.
I’m the person that I always was, but in terms of how I approach my living, I’m not the same person at all. At all. I’ve buried a child, I’ve ended a marriage, and the grandson that I was raising is now grown. My family has totally shifted.
I personally don’t know what nerves are. I don’t get scared when I’m going to play music. But I think something, maybe my fears, are buried into my songs. Because I’m singing them.
There are just so many stories that are buried on family trees.
When the war closed, I buried the hatchet, and I won’t fight now unless I’m put upon.
I grew up in Minnesota. Four generations of my father’s people are buried there.
My grandmother was a very tough woman. She buried three husbands and two of them were just napping.
I wrote ‘Buried Child’ in a trailer at an old ranch house we had in California.
In the grave should be buried the prejudices and passions born of conflict. Charity should hold the scales in which are weighed the deeds of men.
The letters and journals we leave behind and the impressions we have made on our contemporaries are the mere husk of the kernel of our essential life. When we die, the kernel is buried with us. This is the horror and pity of death and the reason for the inescapable triviality of biography.
Every pessimist who ever lived has been buried in an unmarked grave. Tomorrow has always been better than today, and it always will be.
Nobody ever forgets where he buried the hatchet.
As to the old history of Ireland, the first man ever died in Ireland was Partholan, and he is buried, and his greyhound along with him, at some place in Kerry.
I’ll only retire in the day I should be dead and they have me buried, and some idiot spell over my casket some stupid gospel stuff.
Mostly we’re motivated to control ourselves in public. Mostly. At home the motivation is much less clear. At home there’s a bit of a lab for bad behavior. You can test things out without terrible consequences. Or maybe the consequences are there, but they are deferred, buried, much harder to detect.
The individual man is transitory, but the pulse of life and of growth goes on after he is gone, buried under a wreath of magnolia leaves.
I love doing my ‘Buried Treasure’ show.
My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery – always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What’s this passion for?
As a first-generation college student who worked my way through community college on to Cornell Law, having health insurance was not a top priority when I was starting out. I was buried in student loan debt and worried about simply making ends meet.
Once you get a spice in your home, you have it forever. Women never throw out spices. The Egyptians were buried with their spices. I know which one I’m taking with me when I go.
I am a born-again atheist, so there isn’t going to be a funeral. I will be buried in a linen wrap in a cardboard coffin in my forest with an oak tree planted on my head.
I founded Homeboy Industries in 1988 after I buried my first young person killed in our streets because of gang violence.
Though I played classical piano since age 5 and sang in a cappella groups, being an artist didn’t seem like something I was talented enough to do full time. So I kind of buried that dream.
I wanted to publish a book simply to be buried with it; that’s all I wanted. I had no ambition beyond that.
If there’s one thing that lawyers know about reading documents, it’s to pay attention to the footnotes. In fact, oftentimes the most important information is buried there.
Growing up in San Antonio, I was the dork at the Friday night football games with my head buried in a book – Jack Kerouac or Oscar Wilde, years before I really understood them.
Napoleon the Third was not much. He died in England, and was buried in a country church-yard much the same as Kiltartan. But Napoleon the First was a great man; it was given out of him there never would be so great a man again.
Every coal miner I talked to had, in his history, at least one story of a cave-in. ‘Yeah, he got covered up,’ is a way coal miners refer to fathers and brothers and sons who got buried alive.
You have to remember that not every creature that was evolving left behind its skull or its tools for our convenience tens of thousands of years later. Most bones or most tools rot or get buried and are never found again.
My first book was called ‘Buried Dreams,’ about a serial-killer, which was probably about ten years ahead of the serial-killer curve. It was a national bestseller, but it was three years of living in the sewer of this guy’s mind.
I live in the county where my mother was born and buried.
I tend to write longer narrative pieces after I’ve finished writing a novel – when the fiction’s finished and put away, and I have a chance to take all the ideas that are buried inside of my novels and work with them directly.
I don’t want to be buried in a Red Sox casket.
Until I was twenty-eight, I had a kind of buried self who didn’t know she could do anything but make white sauce and diaper babies. I didn’t know I had any creative depths.
My solo album is dead and buried. We had the funeral. It was sad and I cried a lot but it made such a beautiful corpse that we had an open casket.
Where I feel the most productive and engaged is when I’m buried in code, buried in some project, tweaking some designs. I’m certainly introverted.
No man wants more war if he’s planned memorial services for fallen comrades, carried their flag-draped caskets off a plane, and buried them at Arlington National Cemetery.
I just like making people laugh, and buried in that I like to bring up topics and start discussions.
After 16 years in pictures I could not be intimidated easily, because I knew where all the skeletons were buried.
As a kid, during the school year, my head was often buried in a textbook or Judy Blume book; the words and pictures were the perfect, barrier-free environment for me.
Marco Polo has been kind of buried under this cloud of rather banal historical dust, when the true story is so much more exciting.
Yes, Dan’l Webster’s dead – or, at least, they buried him. But every time there’s a thunderstorm around Marshfield, they say you can hear his rolling voice in the hollows of the sky.
The race problem in the United States is the type of unpleasant problem which we would rather do without but which refuses to be buried.
Hebron is a bone of contention between Israeli settlers and the Palestinians in part because Abraham is buried there, in the Tomb of the Patriarchs.
‘Buried Alive’ is a little scary, but also a comedy at the same time.
I excavate history. I look at lives buried under too much silence. Periods of time, like slavery, have to be revisited, reimagined, so we can move through them.
All kids, when they go to school, are pretty good artists and dancers and singers and poets. All that gets buried, basically through being educated, or brainwashed.
Audiences aren’t going to get rid of me. One thing I can say, with absolute certainty, is that my shows will still be performed when I’m dead, buried and forgotten. They’re going to absolutely outlive me, which is a wonderful thing to think about.
The story line was done in a way that’s organic and was doled out very slowly in little bites. We think that’s authentic for this character, that her feelings are very deeply buried or she never felt them.
Better a living beggar than a buried emperor.
Names, once they are in common use, quickly become mere sounds, their etymology being buried, like so many of the earth’s marvels, beneath the dust of habit.
Singing intimately is almost like thinking into a microphone, so it helps to have the song buried inside you.
Societies can be sunk by the weight of buried ugliness.
Think about what would happen if Indiana Jones and Google Earth had a love child. I use high-resolution and NASA satellites and look for subtle differences on the surface of the earth that locate buried ancient pyramids and towns and ancient tombs, which we then go and excavate.
We are buried beneath the weight of information, which is being confused with knowledge; quantity is being confused with abundance and wealth with happiness.
I’m glad now, at age 66, that I never used alcohol or tobacco… I’ve buried a lot of friends who used tobacco or alcohol.
The letters TSS that I once read in the fine print buried on the bottom of tampon boxes soon came to define me. TSS – Toxic Shock Syndrome: a potentially fatal complication of certain types of bacterial infections.
As we all know, many people remain buried under tons of rubble and debris, waiting to be rescued. When we think of their suffering, we feel deeply and profoundly that we should be there, in Haiti, with them, trying our best to prevent death.
My mother’s mother is a very tough cookie. She buried three husbands. Two of them were just napping.
I am an English-speaking Canadian, but my entire family – Russian exiles and the Canadians they married – is buried in Quebec, and if Quebec were to separate, I would feel I had been cut in two.
