For some morbid reason, I am fascinated by people's last words. And their last activities; their last meal.
I was reading about Franklin D. Roosevelt's death the other day, and he said: "I have a terrific headache" and passed out, not reviving. His cause of death was a cerebral hemmorage.
What will my last words be? Well, it might be these if I don't stop quoting myself on here. - Sherry Chapman
I have also been fascinated by "last words" and by epitaphs. I compiled a list of the last words of death row inmates for a blog on another site. Some of them I even found kind of humorous. These ones in particular.
Talk about being morbid.
"Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel."
George Appel, d. 1928 -executed in the electric chair in New York.
"How about this for a headline for tomorrow's paper? French fries."
James French, d. 1966 - executed in the electric chair in Oklahoma.
"I did not get my Spaghetti-O's, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this."
Thomas J. Grasso, d. March 20, 1995 - executed by injection in Oklahoma.
"He who cannot put his thoughts on ice should not enter into the head of dispute." - Friedrich Nietzsche
There was a book out years ago that compiled a bunch of last words and last meals of people about to be executed. The last meals is real interesting, too. Gee, that one you quoted asked for Spaghettios?
Came across this strange one - the last words of Washington Irving. "Well, I must arrange my pillows for another night. When will this end?"
Marie Antoinette, after accidentally stepping on the toe of her executioner:
I beg your pardon, monsieur. I did not do it on purpose.
A man ... wants to give his wife ... the interest in a little homestead where her sister lives. How wicked to have found fault with it. How petty to have found fault with it. (Hosea Knowlton in his closing argument.)