Capsule Comments Made by an ABC's Worth of Individuals One Microsecond After Their Respective Deaths

A-a-ack! Satan’s grim! 
Who'd dance with him…?     

But, now I'm here. 
E-bay my bier! 

Curse the dark 'n' 
Philip Larkin.

Di- (I fear I 
see) -es irae.

Enough's enough!
(Putsch came to “shuff-.”*)
     * As in “...-le off this 
mortal coil.”

Fault's my own.
I shoulda known.

God's call'd Bel.
(She's black as well.)

Though out I'd opt,
he* kindly stopp’d.
     * Cf. Emily 
Dickenson’s #479. 

I died. You lied.
(Ironicide…?)

Jus' like I tol' ya:
no magnolia.

Kiss good-bye yer
ass, young Squire!

Less is more…?
A metaphor.

Memento mori.
(No one’s sorry.)

No sound; no sight;
no shit: "Good" night*?
      * As in Thomas’s
“Do not go gentle…”

Off blocks, my chips.
Apocalypse!

Pride had shit
to do with it.

Quick or dead,
this ain't my bed. 

"Ripley said..."?
(But Ripley’s dead.) 

Suspend the search!
Arrivederch!

To be…? I'd not.
So: off the pot.*
     * As in “shit 
or get…”

Upside...? None.
No mon-, no fun. 

Very, very
"Alighieri." 

What the hell...?
I'd been so well. 

X times three...?
I can't agree. 

Yes, it's hot,
though dry it's not. 

Zen di'n't work.
I've been a jerk!