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.
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.