Monica (beating Smokey at pool): Okey-dokey, Smokey. Four ball, side pocket. And the six ball left corner, not forgetting my favorite, number seven, in that corner.
Whatever happened to the gavotte? And the minuet, you remember the minuet? 1-2-3, 1-2-3, bow and curtsey. Kept the hormones in a state of perpetual anticipation. That's my kind of thing. (Looks at Charles' dancing) 'Course, in his case, maybe he oughta do a little less anticipating and a little more expressing.
All your life, you've been afraid of life. And if you haven't convinced yourself that you were dying then you'd decide you're too fat or too short or too anything as long as it could convince you to hide. But God made you, Charles, and He knew what He was doing. You're not too anything, except almost too late.
Destiny doesn't happen. It arrives. And when it does, you either batten down the hatches and wait 'til it blows over or you swing open the gates and invite it in to supper.
This is what you call an unexpected snow. One moment, the sky is clear and the next moment, it's falling down. Now you can run inside and hide or you can become part of it and let it change you.