On questions, answers and hope

Cut to Thirteen walking into House's office with an envelope.
Thirteen: What the hell is this?
Puts the envelope on House's desk. House picks it up and looks at it.
House: Looks like an envelope with the results of the genetic test for Huntington's inside.
Thirteen: Did you look?
House: I thought it'd be fun to find out together.
Thirteen: I don't want to know.
House: No, you're afraid to know.
Thirteen: I might die. So could you, you could get hit by a bus tomorrow. The only difference is you don't have to know about it today, so why should I?
House: I don't have to know the lottery numbers, but if someone offered them to me, I'd take them.
Thirteen: You spend your whole life looking for answers. Because you think the next answer will change something, maybe make you a little less miserable. And you know that when you run out of questions, you don't just run out of answers, you run out of hope. You glad you know that?
Thirteen leaves. House thinks for a few seconds then drops the envelope in the bin unopened.

She is right and wrong. She is right when she says that once we run out of questions, we run out of answers, and therefore we run out of hope. She is wrong when assuming we don't know the answers already. When it comes to us, we always know the answers. All of them. Deep down, we know them. What we do is, we chose not to know them, not to see them. So we keep the hope. Of all the futile things we do throughout the course of our lives, this is by far the most futile one.