When you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die
somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something.
Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and
putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap.
Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.
The Catcher in the Rye, J. D. Salinger
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