Glen: It's the light, Thom, that's what lasts. The leaves are transient. They grow, turn green, turn red and die, but behind them the light lasts forever.
Maryanne Kinkade: Glen, please, come sit down.
Glen: [to Thom] Paint the light.
Thomas Kinkade: When I went to see Glen the next evening, he had gone home for good. He was back where the light burns brighter than we could ever imagine. Pacem, Glen. Peace. You showed me the light, a light that has filled my life ever since.
Thomas Kinkade: As for me I'm still trying my best to use the lessons Glen taught me, lessons about art, about life, and about light. In the end, love is the brightest light of all.
Maryanne Kinkade: You are the light of the world in a... a VERY... dark winter, and we could all use a little bit of extra light right now.
Thomas Kinkade: That Christmas Eve I realized that in a vast black night even a little light shines brightly and all we can do is our best to find that light and share it with others.
Thomas Kinkade: You always told me you weren't gonna teach me how to paint, but why to paint, and I'll be forever grateful to you for that. I wish I could give you back something, but I have nothing. We're losing the cottage, Glen. A year from now, I have no idea where we'll be. This may be our last Christmas together and I have no gift for you, Glen, no way to thank you for everything. No money, nothing... just love. I love you, Glen. Don't... don't give up, please. That's the first thing you taught me about being an artist - you never give up. Don't give up, Glen. There's a light in you still.
Maryanne Kinkade: I never knew...
Thomas Kinkade: Knew what? That you matter to everyone? Well, you do.
Thomas Kinkade: "Ultimum Folium?"
Glen: Latin. Good old Latin. "The Last Leaf" is my last painting, Thom.
Thomas Kinkade: Ah... no. Glen, no.
Glen: I have been trying to paint my sorrow, to show the bleakness of a world without Nicole, but then you came with a candle last night, and I knew what Nicole's memorial should be. Not darkness, but light. Sometimes we can barely see beyond the forest to the sky. I was painting the leaves of the forest and never saw the light of the sky behind it. Now I see it. That's all I need to see now.
Glen: Thank you.
Maryanne Kinkade: What for?
Glen: You managed to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
Thomas Kinkade: Those were the last brushstrokes Glen ever painted. He sat at our table for Christmas dinner.
Thomas Kinkade: Big Jim stayed up all night fixing the wiring on that tree, and Placerville turned on its real lights that year. I always thought it was the year we found Christmas all over again.