Mourn the dead by pitying the living.

I pray for the dead, this is, I wish him a fair remembrance, whose labours have deserved it.

Just as he lived with them alive, he will live with them dead. Someday he will accept their death as part of his life. He will weep no more. He will carry them in his memory and his thoughts. His flesh and blood are part of them. So long as he is alive, they, too, will live in him. The big wave came, but it went away. The sun shines again, birds sing, and earth flowers.

Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead.

The songs of the dead are the lamentations of the living.

Pity him who lives at home
Happy with his life,
Without a dream, a flexing of wings,
To make him relinquish
Even the warmest ember of his hearth! Pity him who is happy!
He lives because life lasts.
Nothing within him whispers
More than the primeval law:
That life leads to the grave.

Weep bitterly over the dead, for he is worthy, and then comfort thyself; drive heaviness away: thou shall not do him good, but hurt thyself.

Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted.

مَن مات يجب أن يستمر في الموت رحمةً بمن يحب.

“Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.” With each beatitude the gulf is widened between the disciples and the people, their call to come forth from the people becomes increasingly manifest. By “mourning” Jesus, of course, means doing without what the world calls peace and prosperity: He means refusing to be in tune with the world or to accommodate oneself to its standards. Such men mourn for the world, for its guilt, its fate, and its fortune.

Let the dead rest, and care for the living.

Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

It amuses me to weep for a dead man with eyes that once were his.

The living will envy the dead.