The possibility of their meeting could be sliced so thin it would disappear altogether like the thought of parallel lines meeting only in infinity which had once made him giddy. He could still sweat at the thought years on. What if he had missed her? If destiny meant anything, surely they were destined not to even know of each other's existence let alone meet, and yet out of this would come an embrace to the death: so perhaps, he thought later, chance was their destiny.

- Remember Me (Chapter One) by Melvyn Bragg