Paris: The wobbly, the look on his face, the angina... he's old.
Rory: What?
Paris: Asher. He has pains, he wobbles. I spotted him through the curtain when the doctor came out, and he was just lying on that bed all alone, and he had his eyes open and was just staring at the ceiling. He looked so close to death.
Rory: He's not that close.
Paris: He's closer than me.
Rory: An anvil could hit you on the head tomorrow, and he could live another 40 years.
Paris: I'm 19.I should be rollicking. Asher doesn't rollick.
Rory: Well he probably didn't rollick when he was younger either. He's British.
Paris: You should have seen the way he was staring at the ceiling, like he was looking at God.
Rory: He wasn't looking at God.
Paris: You've probably been laughing at me all these months.
Rory: Paris, no, I haven't.
Paris: I'm in a hospital. I should be at a discotheque. Are kids still into the discotheque?
Rory: Paris, come on. Let's go get you something to drink. Let the hospital do their work.
Paris: He orders old gelato.
Rory: Old gelato?
Paris: Vanilla. It's a very old flavor.