Last Words

Some accuse me of morbidity, their assertion supported by a scaffold of dark twigs; my fondness for cemeteries and storms, my ubiquitous clothing choice in the color without color, my reliance upon heavy literature, my collection of dying words. I wish that I might lend them my lens, an owl bestowing her nighttime sight to the worshippers of the sun, that they might see beyond the limits of labels to the radiant core of all—Beauty.

Who is it? Who is it?
~Billy the Kid

Does nobody understand?
~James Joyce

The sadness will last forever.
~Vincent van Gogh

I want nothing but death.
~Jane Austen

Lord help my poor soul.
~Edgar Allan Poe

It’s very beautiful over there.
~Thomas Edison

Play Mozart in memory of me— and I will hear you.
~Frederic Chopin

Don’t ask me how I am! I understand nothing more.
~Hans Christian Andersen

I’m so bored with it all.
~Winston Churchill

This is funny.
~Doc Holliday

Such is life.
~Ned Kelly

Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.
~Lord Byron

The Death Bed of Winthrop.”  Public domain.  Adapted by Prim.

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