A Quote by Hedy Lamarr

[Suggesting her epitaph:] This is too deep for me. — © Hedy Lamarr
[Suggesting her epitaph:] This is too deep for me.
[Suggesting an epitaph for herself:] This is on me.
Let no man write my epitaph. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written.
Let no man write my epitaph... When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then shall my character be vindicated, then may my epitaph be written.
And her sleep was too long and deep for that:so deep that she left her normal reality behind.
I have but one request to ask at my departure from this world; it is-THE CHARITY OF ITS SILENCE. Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and me rest in obscurity and peace, and my name remain uninscribed, until other times and other men can do justice to my character. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written.
The term 'epitaph' itself means 'something to be spoken at a burial or engraved upon a tomb.' When an epitaph is a poem written for a tomb, and appears in a book, we are aware that we are not reading it in its proper form: we are reading a reproduction. The original of the epitaph is the tomb itself, with its words cut into the stone.
One shouldn't write one's own epitaph. I hope people will remember me as one who did her best - and who wasn't an anachronism.
I have neither time nor disposition to enter into discussion with the Friend, and end this occasion by suggesting for her consideration the question whether, if it be true that the Lord has appointed me to do the work she has indicated, it is not probable that he would have communicated knowledge of the fact to me as well as to her.
If she was suggesting she was too wise with the weight of her experience to fall prey to infatuation - well, the disproof was sitting before her in the form of a gray-eyed prince with a thoughtful set to his mouth that she found quite distracting.
My epitaph? My epitaph will be, 'Curiosity did not kill this cat'.
She has often felt that her outsides were too dull for her insides, that deep within her there was something better than what everyone else could see.
I could still smell her on my fur. It clung to me, a memory of another world. I was drunk with it, with the scent of her. I'd got too close. The smell of summer on her skin, the half-recalled cadence of her voice, the sensation of her fingers on my fur. Every bit of me sang with the memory of her closeness. Too close. I couldn't stay away.
Attitude keeps me going or cripples my progress. It alone fuels my fire or assaults my hopes. When my attitudes are right, there is no barrier too high, no valley too deep, no dream too extreme, no challenge too great for me.
If I were to write my epitaph... Epitaph? Hey, shut-up Albert. I'd want to be remembered as someone who loved his sport and tried his best.
Unlike me, Renee was not shy; she was a real people-pleaser. She worried way too much what people thought of her, wore her heart on her sleeve, expected too much from people, and got hurt too easily. She kept other people's secrets like a champ, but told her own too fast. She expected the world not to cheat her and was always surprised when it did.
[Requesting her epitaph to read this way:] Excuse my dust.
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