Jack: Don't worry, I'm a good swimmer.

Connie: I knew you'd be good.

Jack: I am for you.

Connie: I even imagined it with you.

Jack: That's... yeah.

Connie: In a bathtub, I imagined I was with you.

Jack: You took a bath?

Connie: No, I was in a bathtub imagining it was a pitch black night. We were in a bed in a spaceship flying through superspace.

Jack: That... that's a long way off... space travel for tourists.

Clyde: Let's smoke a toast.

Jack: This always happens.

Clyde: What?

Jack: Whenever there's anything good, it fucks up.

Clyde: It fucked up, but it fucked up because *we* forgot.

Jack: No, you fucked it up because you made a fucking toast!

Clyde: Because I love you. We all love you. We forgot the food because you were being loved. That's the important thing to remember.