Funny Epitaphs -1

Published: 22nd March 2010
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Humor can be originated where least likely. Headstone epitaphs, for

example, can be astonishingly funny. Many epitaphs are accidentally,

and sometimes, deliberately, amusing. They provide us the different view

angles toward the death.

On a lawyer:

Sir John Strange.

Here lies an honest man.

And that is Strange.

On a grave digger:

Hooray my brave boys.

Lets rejoice at his fall.

For if he had lived.

He would have buried us all.

On a Coal-miner.

Gone Underground For Good

On an Architect:

Here lies Robert Trollope.

Who made yon stones roll up.

When death took his soul up.

His body filled this hole up.

On an attorney:


John E.


"The defense rests"

On a dentist:

Stranger tread.

This ground with gravity.

Dentist Brown.

Is filling his last cavity.

On a Painter:

A Finished Artist.

On an Auctioneer:

Jedediah Goodwin.


Born 1828.





On a waiter:

Here lies the body of

Detlof Swenson.


God finally caught his eye.

April 10, 1902

On an Author:

He Has Written Finis

On a teacher:

Professor S. B. McCracken.

School is out.


Has gone home.

On a traveling salesman:

My Trip is Ended:

Send My Samples Home

On a spinster postmistress:


Arthur C. Homan's epitaph:

Once I wasn't

Then I was

Now I ain't again.

On an accident victem:

I'll find the witness here.

On an immigration officer

The truth is: All people will be immigrant after all.

On a wife

Here lies my wife

Here let her lie

Now she has peace

And so do I

On a wife

She lived with her husband fifty years

And died in the confident hope of a better life.

On a wife

Here lies my wife.

Tears cannot bring her back.

Therefore I cry!

On a wife

She always said her feet were killing her

On a businessman

I made a lot of deals in life, but I went in the hole on this one

On a busy man

I'm a busy man, I don't have time for this

On an old maid

1787 - Jones - 1855

Here lie the bones of Sophie Jones;

For her death held no terrors.

She was born a maid and died a maid.

No hits, no runs, and no heirs.

On an old maid

Beneath this silent stone is laid

A noisy, antiquated maid,

Who from her cradle talked to death,

And never before was out of breath.

Here lies, returned to clay

Miss Arabella Young,

Who on the eleventh day of May

Began to hold her tongue.


The children of Israel wanted bread

And the Lord sent them manna,

Old clerk Wallace wanted a wife,

And the Devil sent him Anna.

Here lies the body

of Jonathan Blake

Stepped on the gas

Instead of the brake.


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