Lars: How does Bora Bora sound?
Sara: Very sexy sexy.

Jonathan: Maybe I am just getting cold feet.
Dean: I'm telling you right now British women do not age well. Eight years ago she was a luscious treat, you know, she probably looked like, you know, Baby Spice, now she could look like...
Jonathan: Old Spice.

Eve: You know who plays golf? Guys who are too fat to play tennis, like this guy.

Dean: I hate to break up a good thing, but we have half a dozen strippers waiting for us, we're late.
Halley: You mean exotic dancers?
Dean: No, I actually mean strippers.

Jonathan: Would $20 help?
Bloomingdale's Salesman: It might if I were a health inspector.

Dean: Johnathan Trager, prominent television producer for ESPN, died last night from complications of losing his soul mate and his fiancee. He was 35 years old. Soft-spoken and obsessive, Trager never looked the part of a hopeless romantic. But, in the final days of his life, he revealed an unknown side of his psyche. This hidden quasi-Jungian persona surfaced during the Agatha Christie-like pursuit of his long reputed soul mate, a woman whom he only spent a few precious hours with. Sadly, the protracted search ended late Saturday night in complete and utter failure. Yet even in certain defeat, the courageous Trager clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. Uh-uh. But rather, its a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan. Asked about the loss of his dear friend, Dean Kansky, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author and executive editor of the New York Times, described Johnathan as a changed man in the last days of his life. "Things were clearer for him," Kansky noted. Ultimately Johnathan concluded that if we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call "fatum", what we crrently refer to as destiny.

Sara: *writing down her phone number* I can't believe I'm doing this.
Jonathan: Please let fate take its proper course. *large truck zooms by, wind knocks number from his hand into a pile of blowing trash on the sidewalk* That was an accident! Write that down please?
Sara: I can't! That's a sign. Fate's telling us to back off.
Jonathan: If fate didn't want us to be together, then why did we meet tonight? Got you!
Sara: I don't know, it's not an exact science, it's a feeling.
Jonathan: What if you're wrong? Huh? What if it's all in our hands and you just walk away? No names, no phone numbers, what do you think is gonna happen? Do you think good old' fate is gonna deliver my information to your doorstep?
Sara: You know, that's the best idea you've had all night.
Jonathan: What's the best idea?
Sara: *giving Jonathan a $5 bill* Here you go. Write your name and number down.
Jonathan: On this $5 bill?
Sara: Yeah, just do it.
Jonathan: *writes it down* You are a strange and interesting woman. *gives her the $5 bill* Now what?
Sara: Wait there. *crosses the street and buys a roll of mints with the $5 bill*
Jonathan: Hey! What the hell was that?
Sara: Well, if that $5 bill makes its way back into my hands, I'll be able to call you, and when you hear my voice on the other end, then you'll believe in fate, won't you?
Jonathan: Hey! What about me?
Sara: What do you mean?
Jonathan: Well, we have to send something out in the universe with your name, don't we? I mean, that's the only fair thing.
Sara: That is the only fair thing. What have I got? Ooh, no, I have a really good idea.
Jonathan: *looks up at the tree* That's a lot of tubas.
Sara: See this book?
Jonathan: Yeah!
Sara: So, when I get home tonight, I'm gonna write my name and number in this book, and first thing tomorrow morning, I'll sell it to a used bookstore.
Jonathan: Which one? You're not gonna tell me, you're not gonna tell me? Why not?
Sara: Now every time you pass an old book store you're gonna have to go inside to see if it's there!

Sara: Serendipity. It's one of my favorite words.
Jonathan: It is? Why?
Sara: It's such a nice sounding word for what it means: a fortunate accident.