Jocelyn: Moira, it's like, on the inside I feel like I'm 19-years-old, and then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and realize that I'm so not.
Moira: Oh, Jocelyn, you'll soon learn that we aging mortals are blessed with weakening eyes and memories so we don't have to really see ourselves. If you love the number 19, you go be 19. And while you're at it, bet on it.
Jocelyn: I can't take all of these!
Moira: It only looks like a lot. Do as you will. Jocelyn, but whatever you do, rock onwards and upwards!