So much in life came down to timing.
Even the most pragmatic person fell victim at times to a longing for something other.
Gerry?' Laurel had to strain to hear thought the noise on the other end of the line. 'Gerry? Where are you?' 'London. A phone booth on Fleet Street.' 'The city still has working phone booths?' 'It would appear so. Unless this is the Tardis, in which case I'm in serious trouble.
But everyone's an expert with the virtue of hindsight . . . .
Memory is a cruel mistress with whom we all must learn to dance.
Only people unhappy in the present seek to know the future.