Mausoleum Quotes

“Welcome,” Bell said, not rising from a large wooden chair that had been placed in the center of the room like it was a throne. Would that make him the king of sewer rats?”
― Kalayna Price, Grave Dance

“There, standing before the mausoleum, Michael’s anxiety skyrocketed. His heart raced. His head spun. His stomach turned. For a few moments, he really thought he was going to have to run to the bushes and puke. He’d never heard of a ghost being able to actually curse someone, but he didn’t want to risk it by vomiting on Bluidy Mackenzie’s front lawn.”
― Jacqueline E. Smith, Lost Souls

“Ghosts with periscope eyes,
each a mausoleum of violet lilac sent to earth in
another form.”
― Sneha Subramanian Kanta, Ghost Tracks

“A graveyard.
It's the largest cemetery I've ever seen--a place Jack would surely love.
A long rectangle of green lawn lined with rows and rows of old, moss-coated and weather-worn gravestones. Rain pounds the earth, and the cold tickle of air against my neck reminds me of the cemetery in Halloween Town. A feeling that exists in every cemetery, it seems. That hint of death. Of sorrow. Of lives brought to an end. But I don't have to go far before I find a small stone structure, an ornate mausoleum with spires along the roofline and a copper door, tarnished green from the rain. A tomb where the dead are placed to rest.
I glance up the path, the cemetery glistening in the wet air. I have passed through many realms, all the way into the human world to a city made strangely silent, and now this mausoleum is my way home.
My way back to Jack.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen

“My Home Is My Shrine
Mausoleum Of My Thoughts Dying”
― Mirza Sharafat Hussain Beigh

“An architecture devoted to its freezing and display could only be its mausoleum.”
― Robin Evans

“I took a walk through the rows of tombs and vaults that looked like blocks and blocks of dead people living next door to each other in the quietest neighborhood that ever existed. There were mausoleums as big as some of the houses I'd seen in the Garden District. Some were well taken care of, whitewashed, and covered with small offerings. Others had huge marble statues of angels holding flowers. And a few were moldy and decayed with actual bones sticking up through the cracks.”
― Margot Berwin, Scent of Darkness

“narcos, war on drugs, drug cartels, murder, crime, music, Mexico, violence

Humaya Gardens has hundreds of other narco tombs in its sun-beaten soil. It is one of the most bizarre cemeteries in the world. Mausoleums are built of Italian marble and decorated with precious stones, and some even have airconditioning. Many cost above $100,000 to build—more than most Culiacán homes. Inside are surreal biblical paintings next to photos of the deceased, normally in cowboy hats and often clasping guns. In some photos, they pose in fields of marijuana; in other tombs, small concrete planes indicate the buried mafioso was a pilot (transporting the good stuff).”
― Ioan Grillo, El Narco: Inside Mexico's Criminal Insurgency

“Humaya Gardens has hundreds of other narco tombs in its sun-beaten soil. It is one of the most bizarre cemeteries in the world. Mausoleums are built of Italian marble and decorated with precious stones, and some even have airconditioning. Many cost above $100,000 to build—more than most Culiacán homes. Inside are surreal biblical paintings next to photos of the deceased, normally in cowboy hats and often clasping guns. In some photos, they pose in fields of marijuana; in other tombs, small concrete planes indicate the buried mafioso was a pilot (transporting the good stuff).”
― Ioan Grillo

“Mina wound her way through the gravestones and arrived at the mausoleum. Her mausoleum. She smiled. She loved her creepy clubhouse.
She opened the iron gate with the broken latch. It made a soft creak as she stepped inside and inhaled the mossy smell of the stone, letting her eyes adjust to the shadows. She slid down onto the cold floor and clipped a book light onto her sketchbook.
Mina relaxed into the darkness. She felt anonymous, comforted by the silence, surrounded by the dead who needed nothing from her and held no judgement.”
― Melanie Dale, Girl of Lore

“She stepped inside and trailed her fingers along the crypts. Two fresh names were etched into a crypt at the back. Isabella and Theodore Carfax, her mom and dad. She pressed her hands against their crypt and leaned her forehead against the cool stone. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for keeping me safe, and for this legacy. I wish you were here.”
― Melanie Dale, Girl of Lore