Diane: Sam, get back in here. I think I know what you're saying. When I and everyone else in the world say I love you, we are opening up the very core of our being. When you say it, you're just clearing your throat.
Sam: Well put.
Diane: Sam.
Sam: I'm getting confused here. You just gave me tickets to a fight I want to see and now you won't let me see it. What is this, some kind of test or something?
Diane: What does our relationship mean to you?
Sam: It means a lot.
Diane: Go on.
Sam: Oh, thank you. [goes to leave]
Diane: Sam, stop! I have spent three months writing in my journal, filling page after page with thoughts concerning us. I have consumed entire weekends trying to discover exactly what our relationship means. And what do I get from you? "It means a lot." [hits table] Can you see why I'm furious?
Sam: Sure. You work at it for months and I get it just like that.
Diane: If you leave, we're through.
Sam: No, no, no. Don't give me an ultimatum. I hate ultimatums. You give me an ultimatum and we're through.
Diane: What?
Sam: That's better.