Ben:
[Ben has written a poem for Evie, and reads it to her]
Some mysteries I'll never understand: the way the Earth rotates around the sun, three minutes shorter every day. Or the way the dead are gone. Or putting down the phone or turning a corner. The future: that's another whopper. We can never know what we can never know, except, that whoever you are, and whoever I am, you made it allright to be me.
Ben:
[Shrugging modestly]
It's not Shakespeare...
Evie Walton:
[Moved by Ben's somewhat odd poem]
Oh, dear. But it's lovely. And it's you.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 09:33