I guess, in the end, you start thinkin' about the beginning.

— If you don't like 'em, we can take 'em back.
— Okay. I don't like 'em.
— You'll get used to 'em.

Happy endings are just stories that haven't finished yet.

Your aim's as bad as your cookin', sweetheart.

— Madame. Thought of a number of lines for this moment. "Thought I'd just drop in." "Hey, doll. Thanks for givin' me the shaft."
— Nice. So, what did you decide?
— I want a divorce.

— The first time we met, what was your first thought?
— You tell me.
— I thought... I thought you looked like Christmas morning. I don't know how else to say it. <...> So how about it, Jane? Hmm?
— I thought... I thought that you were the most beautiful mark I'd ever seen.

— There's this huge space between us... and it just keeps filling up with everything that we don't say to each other. What is that called?
— Marriage.

Jane Smith: — Any last words?
John Smith: — The new curtains are hideous.

— Describe how you first met.
— Uh, it was... It was in Colombia.
— Bogotá. Five years ago.
— Six.
— Right. Five or six years ago.

A server goes down on Wall Street... she's there anytime, day or night. She's like Batman for computers.

— You know, honey, I should probably tell you. I was married once before.
<...>
— What's her name and Social Security number?
— No. You're not gonna kill her.

— I have to tell you. I never really liked your cooking. It's not your gift.
— Hmm. Baby, I've never cooked a day in my life. L-Temp girls cooked.

— They're a bit green. I think we're gonna have to reupholster the sofas... and definitely get a new rug, maybe a Persian.
— Or we can keep the old ones. Then we don't have to change a thing.

— Chickenshit!
— Pussy!