The last lines that land, closing moments from thousands of vintage SF stories. Mind the spoilers, and follow any that stop you into the full read.
"Just another human," the android said.
It was growing colder....
"Food!" said the last woman on earth.
Billions of them, waiting to be fed.
And there was no loneliness.
The last thing he learned was that death is the end of pain.
Ahead of them lay the stars.
The creature inside jerked convulsively, and then was still. In a few minutes it began to bloat, and a red mold spread rapidly over it.
And then the airlock screamed open.
There were footsteps outside, coming closer.
He was lolling back on his bed, his arms behind his head, his neck exposed. I gathered my muscles and leaped for his throat.
He was still screaming with his eyes when the others came up to him.
Smiling, Conger awaited a death foreordained.
Slowly, inexorably, death would come to him. And death was a sleep from which there was no awakening....
For It had a story to tell.
After a while the Vanderlark flowed over the whole ship. And then there was nothing there at all but the Vanderlark.
For now he knew that waking would be better than any dream.
Nothing but shadows and whispers and the unending voices of the wind. Finally, he lifted his ship and went away.
The quest was ended.
I saw only its back; if I'd seen the front of it--its face--I'd have undoubtedly lost my mind.
He knew what he knew. And he was content with that.
She took the last three steps.
Mr. Kemper lay dying in the cold sun with the smell of lions like dust in his throat.
And then he reached his critical mass.
"_Here's to crime._"
Here were the Survivors.
No matter how she screamed, how she beat against the walls, or how she called for Harry--she knew that no one would ever hear.
Seven hundred years.
He did not wake for a long time.
The noose is quite empty. So is the apartment.