“Look at us. Lupe you are beautiful, a goddess. I am an older man—not an old man, but older. Old enough to know that dreams are not real.”
  “We are not a dream. Do you think of me as a dream?” she questioned him.
  “Yes, my dear, my dear love. You are a dream. You are what men dream of when their lives are plain, burdensome and ending. You are what old men call hope.”

 – Orphan, written by T.R. Connolly