If this is what you think, I should not want you, even if you asked to come. You have made your choice; you can be what you want to be. But I will bury him; and if I must die, I say that this crime is holy: I shall lie down with him in death, and I shall be as dear to him as he is to me. It is the dead, not the living who make the longest demands: we die forever.... You may do what you like, since apparently the law of the gods mean nothing to you (Antigone, prologue. 53- 60).
The dead man - Polyneices - out there - someone - New dust on the slimy flesh! Someone has given it burial that way, and gone (Antigone, Scene 1. 73-76).
I knew I must die, even without your decree: I am only mortal. And if I must die now, before it is my time to die, surely this is no hardship: can anyone living, as I live, with evil all about me, think Death less than a friend? This death of mine is of no importance; but if I had left my brother lying in death unburied, I should have suffered. Now I do not (Antigone, Scene 2. 64-72).
Not here, no; she will not die here, King. And you will never see my face again. Go on raving as long as you've a friend to endure you (Antigone, Scene 3. 132-134).
Then take this, and take it to heart!The time is not far off when you shall pay back Corpse for corpse, flesh of your own flesh.You have thrust the child of this world into living night,You have kept from the gods below the child that is theirs:The one on a grave before her death, the other,Dead, denied the grave. This is your crime:And the Furies and the dark gods of Hell Are swift with terrible punishment for you.Do you want to buy me now, Creon?Not many days,And your house will be full of men and women weeping,And curses will be hurled at you from far Cities grieving for sons unburied, left to rot Before the walls of Thebes.These are my arrows, Creon: they are all for you. But come, child: lead me home.Let him waste his fine anger upon younger men.Maybe he will learn at last to control a wiser tongue in a better head (Antigone, Scene 5. 70-87).
She stood before the altar, and her heart welcomed the knife her own hand guided, and a great cry burst from her lips for Megareus dead, and for Haemon dead, her sons; and her last breath was a curse for their father, the murderer of her sons. And she fell, and the dark flowed in through her closing eyes. (Antigone, Exodos. 112-117)