In China, the dead are not forgotten - my relatives cheerfully pointed out all the niches of deceased friends and family, as if gesturing at the homes of the living.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.
Nowadays, many Americans have forgotten the meaning and traditions of Memorial Day. At cemeteries across the country, the graves of the fallen are sadly ignored, and worse, neglected.
The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
I don't mourn the dead. I mourn the living.
When you're dead, you're dead. No one is going to remember me when I'm dead. Oh, maybe a few friends will remember me affectionately. Being remembered isn't the most important thing, anyhow. It's what you do when you are here that's important.
If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write something worth reading or do things worth writing.
I believe that our friends among the dead really mind us and look out for us. Often there might be a big boulder of misery over your path about to fall on you, but your friends among the dead hold it back until you have passed by.
The museums and parks are graveyards above the ground- congealed memories of the past that act as a pretext for reality.
Tradition does not mean that the living are dead, it means that the dead are living.
I ought not to speak about the dead because the dead are all over the place.