What a couple. I'm consumed into ashes. And he's always raking up the ashes and setting them on fire again.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My husband wanted to be cremated. I told him I'd scatter his ashes at Neiman Marcus - that way, I'd visit him every day.
Mr. Burns comes out and flips cigar ashes on his shoes, and makes up about 90 percent of what you hear.
Scatter my ashes on the Shannon.
I had been playing for a while, and I asked Louisville Slugger to send me a dozen flame treated bats. But when I got it, I realized they had sent me a box of ashes.
I took all my wax studies and threw them in the fire... that's the way it is when something unpleasant happens to me. I take my hammer and I squash a figure.
I have seen him set fire to his wigwam and smooth over the graves of his fathers... clap his hand in silence over his mouth, and take the last look over his fair hunting ground, and turn his face in sadness to the setting sun.
A man must live like a great brilliant flame and burn as brightly as he can. In the end he burns out. But this is far better than a mean little flame.
People who fight fire with fire usually end up with ashes.
You can flush my ashes down the toilet, for all I care.
No ashes are lighter than those of incense, and few things burn out sooner.