“To maximize love, I try to emulate an omelet. And I’m not just saying that to sound romantic.”
“Love is to beer as I am to drunk. And you say I’m not romantic. Shoot, I’m so romantic I could just puke.”
“I’m nothing. I’m just a humble man in a bumblebee costume trying to pollinate with a woman as romantic as a flower. Love doesn’t have to sting.”
“An Omelet a la Feb,” she corrected him. “I can’t say that,” he told her.“Why not?”“I’m a man, Feb. I don’t say shit like, ‘a la’ anything.”
“I have a recognition dance, to acknowledge that I heard and understood you. So when Savannah says she loves me, and I reply by doing the Charleston, I’m just trying to show my love for her.”
“I’m romantic. I’ll try to make your bed while you’re still sleeping in it.”