“Well, I think he can get a pretty intense look on his face when he’s playing something like this, but I don’t think he ever looks like a pirate getting an enema.”
— Scott describing Carla’s imitation of Itzhak Perlman playing the finale of Erich Korngold’s Violin Concerto in D. (Go ahead. Picture it.)
“You’re so understanding it’s driving me crazy!”
— Scott, of Carla
Scott: What did you say? I’m sure it was something very important and full of insight.
Carla: I think I just ate some soapy paint-water.
Hey, no meta-chuckles.
— Scott to Carla
Carla: How do you always know what I’m going to say? Am I predictable?
Scott: No, you’re my wife. You’re only predictable to me. To everyone else, you’re a complete mystery.
Scott: Wow, so we’ve started our seventh year married.
Carla: Uh oh. We’re gonna get the seven-year itch!
Scott: Not me. I’m not itchy.
Carla: Ya, I’m starting to kinda get attracted to you, actually.