Yo. When do you think people die?
When they are shot through the heart by the bullet of a pistol?
No.
When they are ravaged by an incurable disease?
No.
When they drink a soup made from a poisonous mushroom!?
No!
It's when...they are forgotten.
Even after I'm gone, my dream will come true.
The ailing hearts of the people will be cured.
Why are you crying, Dalton?
-Do you think...a country is the same?
If the will is inherited.
A monster will be coming here soon.
He's my son. Don't touch him.
~Don't worry, Chopper. Your mushroom isn't going to kill me.~
THIS HAS TRULY BEEN A WONDERFUL LIFE!!
THANK YOU, CHOPPER!!