A truly Happy Person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
And, one who can enjoy browsing old cemeteries...
Some fascinating things on old tombstones!
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Harry Edsel Smith of Albany , New York :
Born 1903--Died 1942.
Looked up the elevator shaft to see if thecar was on the way down. It was.
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In a Thurmont , Maryland , cemetery:
Here lies an Atheist, all dressed up and no place to go.
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On the grave of Ezekial Aikle in
East Dalhousie Cemetery , Nova Scotia:
Here lies Ezekial Aikle, Age 102. Only The Good Die Young.
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In a London , England cemetery:
Here lies Ann Mann, Who lived an old maid but died an old Mann.
Dec. 8, 1767
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In a Ribbesford, England , cemetery:
Anna Wallace
The children of Israel wanted bread, And the Lord sent them manna.
Clark Wallace wanted a wife, And the Devil sent him Anna.
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In a Ruidoso, New Mexico , cemetery:
Here lies Johnny Yeast... Pardon me for not rising.
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In a Uniontown, Pennsylvania , cemetery:
Here lies the body of Jonathan Blake.
Stepped on the gas instead of the brake.
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In a Silver City , Nevada , cemetery:
Here lays The Kid.
We planted him raw.
He was quick on the trigger
But slow on the draw.
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A lawyer's epitaph in England :
Sir John Strange.
Here lies an honest lawyer, and that is Strange.
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John Penny's epitaph in the Wimborne,
England , cemetery:
Reader, if cash thou art in want of any,
Dig 6 feet deep and thou wilt find a Penny.
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In a cemetery in Hartscombe , England :
On the 22nd of June, Jonathan Fiddle went out of tune.
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Anna Hopewell's grave in Enosburg Falls , Vermont :
Here lies the body of our Anna,
Done to death by a banana.
It wasn't the fruit that laid her low,
But the skin of the thing that made her go.
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On a grave from the 1880s in Nantucket , Massachusetts :
Under the sod and under the trees,
Lies the body of Jonathan Pease.
He is not here, there's only the pod.
Pease shelled out and went to God.
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In a cemetery in England :
Remember man, as you walk by,
As you are now, so once was I
As I am now, so shall you be.
Remember this and follow me.
To which someone replied by writing on the tombstone:
To follow you I'll not consent.
Until I know which way you went.