“Whatever are we to do about you, baby girl? Huh?' 'Kill me, I guess.' 'That idea has been said already. Got'ny other ones?' 'Help me. Ain't nobody said that idea yet, have they?”

“So, are you telling me we're lost?""Not yet," Eli said."But you have no idea where we are.""Not really.""That means 'lost' in my book," Sam said. "What's the difference between having no idea where we are and being lost?""Having no idea where we are on the lake is one thing, but if I can get a clue about which direction is which, then I will know which way to go," Eli said."Still sounds like lost to me," Sam muttered.”

“Men of genius are made not by new ideas, but by an idea which possesses them, namely, that what has been said has not yet been sufficiently said.”

“Said 2,000 years of Christian history, baby And you ain't learned to love me yet?”

“You really have no idea, do you?”“No idea about what?” “How thoroughly you own me, Nightie Girl,” he said, leaning in to whisper this part in my ear. “And I know I love you enough to want you to have your happy ending.”

“I went down to my baby's house And I sat down on the step Said 2,000 years of Christian history, baby And you ain't learned to love me yet?”