"Bonnie.  Bonnie, this wasn't about you—"
"Oh my God!  Wasn't the divorce enough!  Andy!"
"It's something I always wondered about—"
"I am not having this conversation."
"We need to have this conversation.  You have to know it's not about you."
"What will Thalia say?  Oh my God, have you told her?"
"She seemed to take it pretty well."
"Andy."
"I didn't say she wasn't surprised, dammit.  Of course she was surprised.  Jesus, Bonnie, you used to be less uptight.  We can do this now.  We don't have to be what accident made us."
"Andy, you can't spin terminal confusion as a Good Thing.  Oh my God…"
"It's a long life, Bonnie.  My grandparents lived past a hundred even without our current medicine.  If my parents hadn't been killed in the floods, who knows how long they might have lived?  I can expect 120 years.  That's a long time to be locked into the same shell."
"God, Andy.  All the scars."
"There was some trouble.  He's supposed to fix it next week."
"You poor bastard.  You poor bastard."
"Don't pity me, Bonnie.  This is the only part I'm not happy with."
"Talking to me?  That sounds like the end of our marriage all over again."
"We've got a lot of past together."
"Do we, Andy?  Do we really?  Haven't you sort of erased all that?  My husband?  Thalia's father?"
"That all still happened."
"But it's a dream now, isn't it?  You've made it unreal.  Something that happened back in your, your caterpillar days."
"… I'm sorry you feel that way, Bonnie."
"… Now you've made me cry, dammit.  It's just—oh, man—it's just I can still remember the day I won the lottery, you eating your damn birthday cake, and it seemed like things were finally going right for us.  Now look at us.  Look at us.  To think it was all going to come to this."