“ | My name is Walter Hartwell White. I live at 308 Negra Aroya Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104. To all law enforcement entities, this is not an admission of guilt. I am speaking to my family now. Skyler, you are the love of my life. I hope you know that. Walter Jr., you're my big man. There are going to be some things that you'll come to learn about me in the next few days. But just know that no matter how it may look, I only had you in my heart. Goodbye. | „ |
~ Walter recording a farewell message for his family |
“ | All right, I’ve got the talking pillow now. Okay? We all, in this room, we love each other. We want what’s best for each other, and I know that. I am very thankful for that. But what I want, what I need, is a choice…. Sometimes, I feel like I never actually make any of my own–choices, I mean. My entire life, it just seems I never, you know, had a real say about any of it. Now this last one–cancer–all I have left is how I choose to approach this…. Skyler, you’ve read the statistics. These doctors talking about surviving. One year, two years, like it’s the only thing that matters. But what good is it to just survive if I am too sick to work, to enjoy a meal, to make love? For what time I have left, I want to live in my own house. I want to sleep in my own bed. I don’t want to choke down thirty or forty pills every single day and lose my hair and lie around too tired to get up and so nauseated that I can’t even move my head. You cleaning up after me? Me–some dead man, some artificially alive, just marking time? No. No. And that’s how you would remember me. That’s the worst part. So that is my thought process, Skyler. I’m sorry. I just–I choose not to do it. | „ |
~ Walter confessing his true feelings to his family |