Joan: Wait. You know my future. So why do I have to go discuss it with Price?
Gay Male Secretary (God): That free will lecture doesn't land with you, does it?
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Will: (referring to Lucy) Did you like her?
Helen: Like her? Will...she's me.
Will: She's you?
Helen: Yeah. If I were shorter or political and...didn't have, you know, a soul.
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Joan: Lots of people believe in God who are not crazy: Isaac Newton. Bono. Pretty much anyone who wins an award.
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Joan: What did I do in a previous life? Kill puppies?
Adam: Truly, yeah.
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Adam: Physics is hard.
Joan: "Physics is hard?" That's like the intellectual version of "You aren't fat."
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Joan: Are we actually talking about stuff? It's not even eight o'clock yet...
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Gay Male Secretary (God): And stand up straight. I didn't create your slouch.
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Will: I'm going to set my alarm for 5:30.
Helen: Not in this bedroom, you're not.
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Glynis: (after Friedman hits his crotch) Holy future Friedmans!
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Fortune Teller (God): Technically, everyone has no future.
Joan: Oh God...
Fortune Teller (God): That's me.
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Will: Something smells good!
Helen: Any more garlic, the paint would peel.
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Helen: (to Lucy) That's enough - tomatoes.
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Adam: So what if you don't make Ivy League? Is it really that big of a deal? I mean, if George Bush is any indication... right?
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