Looking at that tired old freak has made me realize I’m no spring chicken myself. I can feel death’s clammy hand on my shoulder... wait, that’s my hand.— Grampa
Lisa: (to Hawking) Oh, Dr. Hawking, we had such a beautiful dream. What went wrong?
Hawking: Don't feel bad, Lisa. Sometimes, the smartest of us can be the most childish.
Lisa: Even you?
Hawking: No. Not me. Never.
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