I love you. You annoy me more than I ever thought possible, but I want to spend every irritating minute with you.
When you look in her eyes... and she's looking back in yours... everything feels... not quite normal. Because you feel stronger and weaker at the same time. You feel excited and at the same time terrified. The truth is, you don't know what you feel... except you know what kind of man you want to be. It's as if you've reached the unreachable...
«For June who loved this garden, from Joseph who always sat beside her».
— Some people do spend their whole lives together.
— Why was your wife so special?
— Howling is your program? It was a million little things. When you added them up, it meant we were meant for each other. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home, only to no home I'd ever known. I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car. And I knew it. It was... Like magic.
— So listen to me when I say that love isn't something we invented. It's observable, powerful. It has to mean something.
— Love has meaning, yes. Social utility, social bonding, child rearing...
— We love people who have died. Where's the social utility in that?
— None.
— Maybe it means something more, something we can't yet understand. Maybe it's some evidence, some... artifact of a higher dimension that we can't
consciously perceive. I'm drawn across the universe to someone I haven't seen in a decade, who I know is probably dead. Love is the one thing we're capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space. Maybe we should trust that, even if we can't understand it yet.
— Hey... Is there anything you want as a present?
— Is it related to graduation?
— No, not really, but I suddenly felt the urge to give you something.
— I can't accept a present for no reason.
— Isn't wanting to give something to your loved one a good enough reason?
— If that was true, then I'd have to give you something every day.