I like to think that maybe one day you’ll be an old man like me, talking a younger man’s ear off, explaining to him how you took the sourest lemon that life has to offer and turned it into something resembling lemonade. If you can do that, then you will still be… taking three babies home from this hospital. Just maybe not the way you planned.[to Jack]
You didn’t just make something resembling lemonade, dear. You made one of the sweetest damn pitchers of lemonade I ever saw.[to Rebecca]
You trying to wax poetic on me? I’d rather you wax that mustache. ‘Cause if your musings on the great circle of life are gonna be the last things I ever hear, dear God, take me now.[to Jack]
That song. Ah. It made us happy, it made us sad, it made us happy again. The whole human experience just wrapped up in that one song. Hospitals are kind of like that, you know. These bizarre buildings where people experience some of their greatest joys and some of the most awful tragedies. All under one roof. I think the trick is not trying to keep the joys and the tragedies apart. But you kind of got to let them cozy up to one another. You know, let them coexist. And I think that if you can do that, if you can manage to forge ahead with all that joy and heartache mixed up together inside of you, never knowing which one’s gonna get the upper hand… And, well, life does have a way of shaking out to be more beautiful than tragic.
Some people think the scariest part is coming to the hospital to have the baby. The scariest part is leaving the hospital with the baby.
If at some point in your life, you find a way to show somebody else the same kindness that your parents showed you, that’s all the present I’ll need.[to Randall]
I believe in good people. Of course, I voted for Nixon, so you got to take everything I say with a grain of salt.
Honey, listen to me. I am the best of the best. And I swear to you, on the lives of my children and my grandchildren, that I am up to the task.
Do you see me? I am 73 years old. You know what that means, don’t you? That means I don’t run wind sprints as fast as I used to, but my faculties are otherwise completely intact. There are days that I wish they weren’t, because then I would retire and spend my remaining days doing something more glamorous than pulling eight-pound objects out of women’s vag**as. But until that time, I keep showing up here every day.