Although failing fast, [former U.S. president] John Adams was determined to survive until the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence — July 4, 1826. At dawn on that day he was awakened by his servant, who asked if he knew what day it was. He replied, "Oh, yes, it is the glorious Fourth of July. God bless it. God bless you all." He then slipped into a coma. In the afternoon he recovered consciousness briefly to murmur, "Thomas Jefferson lives." These were his last words. Unknown to him, Thomas Jefferson had died that same day.
During a recital in Berlin, Andrés Segovia's guitar was heard to emit a loud cracking sound. Segovia rushed offstage and, cradling his instrument, kept repeating, "My guitar, my guitar." It was soon learned that the man who had built the guitar had died in Madrid at the exact moment in the concert that Segovia's guitar had split.
Despite his evident love of children, Hans Christian Andersen never married. Late in life his health declined rapidly; first he developed chronic bronchitis, then the more serious, and ultimately fatal, liver cancer. Unable to care for himself, he moved into the house of some friends near Copenhagen, where he could see the ocean from his room. One morning he quietly finished his tea, and was found a few minutes later in his bed, dead. In his hands was a farewell letter written forty-five years earlier by the only woman he had ever loved.
I can't swim, so when the cigar goes out, I know I'm getting out of my depth." To illustrate, he lit the cigar, walked into the lake until the water reached the level of his mouth, then returned to the dry land, the cigar extinguished. "There, now," he said triumphantly, "if it hadn't been for the cigar, I would have drowned.
President and Mrs. Coolidge, visiting a government farm, were taken around on separate tours. At the chicken pens Mrs. Coolidge paused to inquire of the overseer whether the rooster copulated more than once a day. "Dozens of times," said the man. "Tell that to the president," requested Mrs. Coolidge. The president came past the pens and was told about the rooster. "Same hen every time?" he asked. "Oh, no, a different one each time." Coolidge nodded. "Tell that to Mrs. Coolidge," he said.