— Simbelmyne. Ever has it grown on the tombs of my forebears. Now it shall cover the grave of my son. At last, that these evil days shall be mine... The young perish and the old linger. That I should live to see the last days of my house...
— Theodred's death was not of your making.
— No parent should have to bury their child.
If only my feelings had also been buried beneath the ground back then.
— Why do you cry?
— He is Conan, Cimmerian. He won't cry. So l cry for him.
Funerals, I'd decided, are not for the dead. They're for the living.
"Funerals are nothing compared to this," Marla says. "Funerals are all abstract ceremony. Here, you have a real experience of death."
— When my time comes, I wanna be buried at sea.
— You what?
— I wanna be buried at sea. It looks like fun.
— Define "fun."
— Come on. You'll make a day of it. You'll get a boat, pack a lunch...
— And then we throw your body in the water. Gee, that does sound fun.
— Everyone thinks they know me. Everyone says, "Jack Geller, so predictable." Maybe after I'm gone, they'll say, "Buried at sea? Huh."
— That's probably what they'll say.
— I'd like that.
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