Well, for that matter, I was also a good friend of Leonardo da Vinci, Botticelli, Francis Bacon, Albert Einstein, and John, Paul, George, and Ringo." He pauses, seeing the blank look on my face and groaning when he says, "Christ, Ever, the Beatles!" He shakes his head and laughs. "God, you make me feel old.

Well, it's nice to have a dream. But it's even nicer when there's a remote possibility of it coming true.

Soundlessly whispering into the void, my lips moving quickly, silently, without ceasing. Calling his name, calling him to me. Even though there's no use. Even though it's futile. Even though it's way past too late.

Of course, I didn't kill them. They're just taking a little ... siesta, that's all.

Sometimes destiny lies just outside of our reach.

You left me." Not realizing until I've said my final good-bye and closed the door behind me, that he's not referring to the past. He's prophesying our future.

You hurt my feelings." He shoots me a wounded look. "I wasn't aware that you had any.