"Why are you not dead yet?"

This question was posted by Jason.

Jason, are you assuming that someone out there did this to me with some kind of big grand design in store? Are you assuming I did this to myself, because I've got something I need to finish before I die?

One thing I've learned in over 600 years of life is that asking "Why?" is just about the most useless thing a man can do. History has no such artisan, as far as I can tell. People seem to be more or less in charge of their own destiny, and for the most part we make a pretty mess of it. That much I can tell you!

Maybe a more useful question is: "Hey Sam, how the hell did you live for 600 years?"

That's one I bloody well wish I had the answer to.

"Did the air smell different 600 years ago?"

This question was posted by Alice.

Oh, God yes.

"How's your prostate holding up?"

This question was posted by Patrick.

Finally, the penetrating questions! If you'll allow me, I'll address this question a little more broadly with regard to my health.

I'm quite well, thank you.

"How many regrets do you have?"

This question was posted by @Soxfan311.

If you'd asked me this question in the seventeenth century, I'd have given you a laundry list of wrongs that I planned to spend my life setting to rights. As it happens, buying off your sins doesn't take as long as you might think - and it's not nearly so cathartic as all that.

My last regret was not taking more time with my son, and the last time I felt it was about a hundred years ago. In many ways, it was my desire for a family that founded my interest in the Russian courts and my ties with the Romanov family. Being perfectly honest, I did those things because wanted to make sure I always had a child to care for.

At the same time, even a prince has a father of his own. Taking that father's place wasn't any business of mine.

So what is my business? I'm still not sure. All the same, I can tell you that regret leads one down a daft and dreary road. Looking to the past for answers keeps one from noticing what's right in front of them.

"What century was the best?"

This question was posted by @sliceNdice3.

My son was born in the 1480's, and that was by far the happiest time in my life. That's not likely to be the answer you're looking for.

In my last post, I explained that the eighteenth century was a painful, agonizing time - but it was also a tremendous time to be an explorer. One hundred years prior, I'd struck up a friendship with Peter I in Bristol, and Catherine II was just as committed to exploring the cultural potential of the Russian State -while at the same time being far less fearful of Slavic tradition.

That's when Mozart was playing in the German Courts. That was something.

At the same time, my own research into alchemy and the transmutation of the spirit was at a peak. As St. Germain, I was getting financing from the most well-established families in Europe and meeting with the bravest minds of the age.

My most self-destructive years were, in many ways, my most memorable. That's true for everyone, I think...

"Why haven't you killed yourself by now?"

This question was posted by @sliceNdice3.

Just not my time, I guess. Is that trite? Yes, but there is is. Right?

Truthfully, I've tried more times than I care to recount. For me, the 18th Century was more or less about finding ways to end my life. Finally, I just gave up and tried something else.

This is probably the point where you start asking me if I've tried this method or that method of bringing my destruction to fruit. Before we get too deep into that side of the conversation, I'll just tell you "yes". Yes, I've tried it.

Trust me, it's just not my time.

"Still single, huh?"

This question was posted by @TomSamang.

Tom, I know more about getting fanny than has been known by yourself, your father, your grandfathers and their fathers combined. Let us be clear on this one point, shall we?