nobody dies from lack of sex. It's lack of love we die from. There's nobody here I can love, all the people I could love are dead or elsewhere. Who knows where they are or what their names are now? They might as well be nowhere, as I am for them. I too am a missing person.

I must stop thinking. I’ll pretend that everything’s all right and then everything will be.

[W]e are almost always in one place with our minds somewhere quite other.

If Beethoven had been killed in a plane crash at the age of 22, it would have changed the history of music... and of aviation.

Written By Tom Stoppard

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