Mr. Edward Magorium:
[to Molly, about dying] When King Lear dies in Act 
V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." 
That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final 
words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic 
literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with
 "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself 
overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but 
not because of the words "He dies." but because of the life we saw prior
 to the words. 
[pause, walks over to Molly]
Mr. Edward Magorium: I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died."
Molly Mahoney: [starting to sob] I love you.
Mr. Edward Magorium: I love you, too.
[picks Molly up, sighs heavily]
Mr. Edward Magorium: Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.
[pause, walks over to Molly]
Mr. Edward Magorium: I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died."
Molly Mahoney: [starting to sob] I love you.
Mr. Edward Magorium: I love you, too.
[picks Molly up, sighs heavily]
Mr. Edward Magorium: Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.
 
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