A Corpse (n.) keeps the marks of how its owner treated his body — the fat, the long hair, the scars of the whip, the broken limbs.
A Corpse (n.) stripped is a slavish and small-minded act, treating the body as your enemy once the enemy has flown, like a dog angry at the stone and ignoring the thrower.
A Corpse (n.) is what Crito mistakes for Socrates: he cannot be convinced that Socrates is the one talking now, not the thing he will soon be looking at.
The Corpse (n.) is a deserted altar to the gods below; it is folly to squander one's last penny burying a lump of flesh as though it were one's son or brother.
A Corpse (n.) outlasts expectations — embalmed as in Egypt it remains almost whole, and its bones and sinews are, one might say, deathless; how then should the soul blow away first?