Final Words Quotes

Mexicans, I die with honour, and not as a traitor. That stain I will not bequeath to my children and their posterity; I am not a traitor, no.

Last words are for those fools who believe they have not yet said enough.

Truth sits upon the lips of dying men.

I know so many last words. But I will never know hers.

One puts off the biography like you put off death. To write an autobiography is to etch the words on your own gravestone.

When I mount the scaffold at last these will be my farewell words to the sheriff: Say what you will against me when I am gone, but don't forget to add, in common justice, that I was never converted to anything.

[Suggesting an epitaph for herself:] This is on me.

Go away. I'm all right. [last words]

[Requesting her epitaph to read this way:] Excuse my dust.

When you have only two minutes to say good-bye to the person you love most in the world, and you don’t know when you’ll see each other again, you can become logjammed with the effort to say and do and settle everything at once.

I don't think anybody's necessarily ready for death. You can only hope that when it approaches, you feel like you've said what you wanted to say. Nobody wants to go out in mid-sentence.

On their deathbed men will speak true, they say.

He smelled the garden, the yellow shield of light smote his eyes, and he whispered, "Life is so beautiful." ... Yes, he thought, if I can die saying, "Life is so beautiful," then nothing else is important.

Having reached 451 books as of now doesn't help the situation. If I were to be dying now, I would be murmuring, "Too bad! Only four hundred fifty-one." (Those would be my next-to-last words. The last ones will be: "I love you, Janet.") [They were. -Janet.]

[Suggesting her epitaph:] This is too deep for me.

'Curiosity never killed this cat’ — that’s what I’d like as my epitaph.

Great stones they lay upon his chest until he plead aye or nay. They say he give them but two words. "More weight," he says. And died.

He did not know or care whether they were wizards or Muggles, friends or foes; all he cared about was that a dark stain was spreading across Dobby's front, and that he had stretched out his thin arms to Harry with a look of supplication. Harry caught him and laid him sideways on the cool grass. "Dobby, no, don't die, don't die -" The elf's eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words. "Harry...Potter..." And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.

...even saying good-bye isn’t enough. There’s always one more thing you should have had the time to say, or do, or ask. There’s always going to be that one missing piece.

My epitaph? My epitaph will be, 'Curiosity did not kill this cat'.

Love is the most powerful thing of all and I remember thinking that - God, I'm about to make myself cry but, I remember thinking that when 9/11 happened because those last phone calls were about - the last thing knowingly, that I'm going to say on this earth is "I love you". What's more powerful than that? What's more proof than that? Beyond fear, beyond death.

THE LAST WORDS OF MAX VANDENBURG: You've done enough.

Once someone asked me, "What do you want to be your epitaph?" So I said, "Paulo Coelho died when he was alive.

Write as if you were dying. At the same time, assume you write for an audience consisting solely of terminal patients. That is, after all, the case. What would you begin writing if you knew you would die soon? What could you say to a dying person that would not enrage by its triviality?

God has the final word on your life and His word is grace.