Funerals, I'd decided, are not for the dead. They're for the living.

A man can live a good life, be honorable, give to charity, but in the end, the number of people who come to his funeral is generally dependent on the weather.

— But we promised to bury the poor soul inside.
— Ground's too hard. Them men wanted a decent burial, they should have gotten themselves killed in summer.

— What would you say if no one came to your funeral?
— Nothing, presumably.

Amazing tradition. They throw a great party for you on the one day they know you can't come.

— I'm a little nervous.
— Just think of them as something friendly.
— For example?
— Like a firing squad.