Susan: What good would wings be if you couldn't feel the wind on your face?
Maggie Rice: When they ask me what I liked best, I'll say it was you.
Seth: You're a good doctor.
Maggie: How do you know?
Seth: I have a feeling.
Maggie: Yeah, well that's pretty flimsy evidence.
Seth: Close your eyes. Just for a second... what am I doing?
Maggie: You're... touching me.
Seth: How do you know?
Maggie: Because, I feel it.
Seth: You should trust that. You don't trust it enough.
Seth: Hello Maggie! It's nice to see you again.
Maggie Rice: It's weird to see you again.
Seth: Weird is nice.
Ann: Never date a guy who knows more about your vagina than you do.
Seth: Let's go.
Maggie: Where?
Seth: Anywhere.
Maggie: What'll we do?
Seth: Anything.
Maggie: Something happened in that room. I got this jolt that... something bigger is out there. Something bigger than me, bigger than you. Does that sound crazy?
Maggie: Why do you wear the same clothes all the time? Why won't you give me your phone number? Are you married?
Seth: No.
Maggie: Are you homeless?
Seth: No.
Maggie: Are you a drummer?
Seth: What's that like? What's it taste like? Describe it like Hemingway.
Maggie Rice: Well, it tastes like a pear. You don't know what a pear tastes like?
Seth: I don't know what a pear tastes like to you.
Maggie Rice: Sweet, juicy, soft on your tongue, grainy like a sugary sand that dissolves in your mouth. How's that?
Seth: It's perfect.
Seth: I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. One.
Seth: Some things are true whether you believe in them or not.
Maggie: No dying yet, Mr. Messenger. Not until you give me Seth's phone number.
Maggie: What happened?
Seth: Free will.
Nathaniel Messinger: [to Seth] I can't see you, but I know you're there.
Seth: The little girl asked if she could be an angel.
Cassiel: They all want wings.
Seth: I never know what to say.
Cassiel: Tell them the truth. Angels aren't human. We were never human.
Seth: What if I just make her a little pair of wings out of paper?
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