Clara Clayton:
What's wrong?
Doc:
I've come to say goodbye.
Clara Clayton:
Goodbye? Well, where are you going?
Doc:
I'm going away and, well, I'm afraid I'll never see you again.
Clara Clayton:
Emmett.
Doc:
Clara, I want you to know that I care about you deeply, but I realize that I don't belong here, and I have to go back to where I came from.
Clara Clayton:
And where might that be?
Doc:
I can't tell you.
Clara Clayton:
Well, then wherever you're going, take me with you.
Doc:
I can't, Clara. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but just believe me when I tell you that I'll never forget you and that I love you.
Clara Clayton:
I don't understand what you're trying to say.
Doc:
Clara, I don't think there's any way that you *can* understand it.
Clara Clayton:
Please, Emmett, please. I-I have to know. If-If you sincerely do love me, then tell me the truth.
Doc:
All right, then. I'm from the future. I came here in a time machine that I invented, and tomorrow I have to go back to the year 1985.
Clara Clayton:
Yes, Emmett. I do understand. I understand that, because you know I'm partial to the writings of Jules Verne, you concocted those mendacities in order to take advantage of me!
[slapping him]
Clara Clayton:
Oh, I've heard some whoppers in my day, but the fact that you'd expect me to entertain a notion like that is so insulting and degrading! All you had to say is "I don't love you and and I don't want to see you anymore". That, at least, would have been respectful!
Doc:
But that's not the truth.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:48