“Where am I going to grow a garden in a penthouse?”“Next time I visit I’ll fix you up a spot in one of the corners. You won’t even know it’s there until its time to harvest.”“Wonderful.” But then it occurred to her. “Jenny, next time you visit?” “What? What is it?” Jennifer asked. Christine half stuttered. “You have never been to my penthouse.”“Really?” Jennifer thought back when something came to mind. “Well, what was that great big building we went to the last time we visited? You know, we went all the way to the top.”“That was the Empire State building.”“No fooling? Huh, what do you know? Well you should move in there, it was beautiful as I recall.” “You can’t move into the Empire State building.” “Oh, that’s right,” Jennifer soon realized, “those mean terrorists tore it down. My, that was just awful.”

“Look how healthy you are, and your skin, it's like a Barbie doll." "Why, thank you, Jenny." Christine graciously accepted the compliment, only to get side swiped when Jennifer moved to the door. "Tell me, will you melt if it gets too hot outside?”

“Listen." Jennifer reverted, "I didn't mean anything by all of that before. I understand what you were trying to do and ..." She struggled for the right words. "Sweetie, like love, people don't live inside of life, life lives inside of you. Open yourself up to it and there's no stopping your heart.”

“It's not how many times you fall. And it's not how many times you get back up. It's about how much money you have to pay people to admit that the whole incident didn't even occur to begin with.”

“I don’t think it’s proper for a girl to have three boyfriends.” Jennifer now begins to sound her age, and more like a grandmother. Sally attempts to clear up any confusion. “They’re not my boyfriends, they’re just boys who are my friends.”“How could I have ever misunderstood that?”

“I don't know who he was," Kavita flat-out states, "but whoever he was he sure did a number on you, didn't he?"Mary leans forward to ensure he would see her deviant stare. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I did a number on him?"Kavita leans in closer as well, and with that same deviant expression, "Yes. I have.”

“You know," Kavita begins, "I think I can pick out my own furniture. I am an artist after all. I do have some taste.""No you don't." Nick plainly states. "No man has taste. Besides, I didn't pick it out, she did. Wives are good for things like that.”