Who was that woman you were with last night....someone who saw you with her told me.
That was not exactly a woman. That was fate. We are just friends.
Some friends! I heard you were dancing with her!
No, I was not. But I can see how it might have looked that way. I have learned to bow gracefully to my fate.
I have a hard time believing you. You have quite the reputation as a Lothario.
I understand that view for in a sense I was just that. But first I had to seduce myself with the belief that I could pick my fate. Then choice after false choice I made, pursued and abandoned in disappointment. That, you see, is the hard part: thinking the plain one could not be your fate and the pretty one must be. And then I seduced myself with the belief that I could struggle against that which was not my fate. I call that a belief because it is a great truth resting upon a great assumption. I never knew my fate but she knew me. Thus it was my fate to struggle. I still know nothing but I feel better.