“Sometimes when I'm faced with an atheist, I am tempted to invite him to the greatest gourmet dinner that one could ever serve, and when we have finished eating that magnificent dinner, to ask him if he believes there's a cook.”

“Made dinner," Helen told him in a flat voice. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked tentatively. "Of course not. Why would you ask that when I just cooked you dinner?" "Because usually when a woman spends hours cooking a complicated meal and then just sits at the table with a pissed off look on her face, that means some guy somewhere did something really stupid," he said, still on edge.”

“And I know I need to invite him over for dinner, because there's no question. This is serious.”

“I invited my girlfriend over and made her dinner. I didn’t cook, but I did eat her.”

“You want me to invite him to dinner.” “I want you to invite him to dinner,” she agreed. “You know,” he said, “most gay men don’t have mothers who are this enthusiastic about their love lives.” “That’s probably true,” she said. “You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“He attacked us. What was I supposed to do? Invite him to dinner? (Sin)”