“I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”

“I didn’t want a wedding at all until this certain girl popped into my life. Now I want whatever she wants. I would do anything to make her happy.”

“I want to make you happy. I want to give you the wolrd. I want you to be proud of me. I want to comfort you. I want you to comfort me. I want to hold you when your scared. I want you to hold me when I'm scared. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you blush." Leaning in, he whispered, "I want to make you scream.”

“I'm a prick half the time, but you make me better. You make me happy. I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Of course, I quite agree that the Christian religion is, in the long run, a thing of unspeakable comfort. But it does not begin in comfort; it begins in the dismay I have been describing, and it is no use at all trying to go on to that comfort without first going through that dismay. In religion, as in war and everything else, comfort is one thing you cannot get looking for it. If you look for the truth, you may find comfort in the end: if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth-only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin with and (the) in the end, despair.”

“Kate, I’ve loved you for years. I mean, I know twelve-year-olds don’t know what love is, so I guess I should say I’ve really liked you for years. But when I saw you this year, I knew. I knew we should be together. I just didn’t know how hard you were going to make me work to get you to even like me. So, yeah, of course I want you to love me back.”