the will [Theme] Page 1

Life is beautiful. Let the future generations cleanse it of evil, oppression and violence and enjoy it completely!

Have a noble love to keep will!

This is the last will of the deceased Thomas Wayne. In the event of my death, all my property goes to the possession of my son, Bruce Wayne.
Bruce. I'm asking you with all due respect to the legacy of the Wayne family and to devote himself to work for the good of Gotham city, protecting its foundations and take care of its inhabitants. Be strong, son. You're still young, but you're destined to do great things. Use your wealth wisely. Give to the city that gave us so much. Help change millions of lives for the better. Not throw money. Please do not spend it on sports cars, expensive clothes and bad habits. Invest in Gotham. Treat its inhabitants as his family. Protect these people from forces that they cannot resist themselves. Most of all I'm sorry I will not see you grow up to be a worthy man. And finally, my son, I beg you - don't ever leave this city in the lurch. In our history there have been dark times, and they, no doubt, will come again. But that is the role of all great men to stand guard over Gotham when the other run away in fear. Even after death I will love you forever.
Your father, Thomas.

The difficulty is not that it requires mental effort, it's hard to bring myself to renounce all earthly things...

If I'm not back home to your wife, and if you see her, you tell her then - listen carefully! First: every day we talked about it - remember? Second: I never loved anyone more than her. Third, the short time that we were together, was for me such happiness that outweighs all the bad, even what are to survive.

- Your brother and I are lovers. I'm dying and I need a will. I want to leave everything to ned.
- How's he doing?
- He blames you for everything: for my death; how the world works. Besides, you still not talking. I'm not rich. There is only a beautiful piece of land on Cape cod, in Elfride. Weeks not know about it. It was such a surprise, where we rode off into the sunset to live happily ever after. Besides, I have insurance working. I'm a journalist for the New York Times. She's meant to my family. I'm afraid they he will not pay.
- If specified beneficiary, they must.
- But you're not a fool, don't be silly.
- Trust me, I'll make them.

My will is easy to decide,
For there is nothing to divide.
My kin don't need to fuss and moan,
Moss doesn't cling to a rolling stone.
My body? Oh, if I could choose,
I would to ashes it reduce,
And let the merry breezes blow
My dust to where some flowers grow
Perhaps some fading flower then
Would come to life and bloom again
This is my last and final will -
Good luck to all of you.
About the will think of me eh?
After all, nothing to divide relatives.
What it feigned sigh:
"The stones of avalanches does not stick moss".
And the body? Would be my choice,
I would burn in the ashes of the fire,
To the winds of fun in the fields
Flowers scattered my ashes
That fading flower
Again to rise to life could.
That's all I ask for,
I wish happiness to you.

My will: put the rock; and let there be written, if one of my name enough to give him immortality.

The man who leaves money to charity in his will, only gives what no longer belongs to him.

I want to leave my Gran Torino ' 72 to his friend Tao Wang, Laura, unless you blow him up like a punk, will not cause him silly pictures, as it does different white rabble, and will not stick with silly catchphrases like other freaks. It's creepy. If you can not to do it, it's yours.

I thank you, - said my uncle - I bequeath to you the works of Lenin. Take them to the trash and changed to "Pinocchio"... But first, finish me off.

Once the Romans are sincere in their wills.

It's over, - a weak voice said the cat, and languidly stretched in a bloody puddle, - depart from me for a second, let me get off the ground. Oh, my friend Azazello! - moaned the cat, bleeding profusely, where are you? the cat started dying eyes towards the door to the dining room, you didn't come to my aid in the moment of unequal battle. You left poor Behemoth, exchanging him for a glass of really good cognac! Well, let my death be on your conscience but I'll bequeath you my Browning...

The grandchildren of the doctor for the second week can not read who is written last will and Testament.