Tom: What happens when you fall in love?
Summer: You believe in that?
Tom: It's love, it's not Santa Claus.

Rachel Hansen: Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn't mean she's your soul mate.

Summer: We've been like Sid and Nancy for months now.
Tom: Summer, Sid stabbed Nancy, seven times with a kitchen knife, I mean we have some disagreements but I hardly think I'm Sid Vicious.
Summer: No I'm Sid.
Tom: Oh, so I'm Nancy...

Tom: Look, we don't have to put a label on it. That's fine. I get it. But, you know, I just... I need some consistency.
Summer: I know.
Tom: I need to know that you're not gonna wake up in the morning and feel differently.
Summer: And I can't give you that. Nobody can.

As he listened, Tom began to realize that these stories weren't routinely told. These were stories one had to earn. He could feel the wall coming down. He wondered if anyone else had made it this far. Which is why the next six words changed everything.
Summer: I've never told anybody that before.
Tom: I guess I'm not just anybody.

Tom: What happened? Why - why didn't they work out?
Summer: What always happens. Life.

Summer: Well, you know, I guess it's 'cause I was sitting in a deli and reading Dorian Gray and a guy comes up to me and asks me about it and... now he's my husband.
Tom: Yeah. And... so?
Summer: So, what if I'd gone to the movies? What if I had gone somewhere else for lunch? What if I'd gotten there 10 minutes later? It was - it was meant to be. And... I just kept thinking... Tom was right.
Tom: No.
Summer: Yeah, I did.
[laughs]
Summer: I did. It just wasn't me that you were right about.

Summer: There's no such thing as love, it's fantasy...

If Tom had learned anything... it was that you can't ascribe great cosmic significance to a simple earthly event. Coincidence, that's all anything ever is, nothing more than coincidence... Tom had finally learned, there are no miracles. There's no such thing as fate, nothing is meant to be. He knew, he was sure of it now.

OK, yeah, noskatījos romantičiski kino. Bet ne to salkani pretīgo. This was it. This was real life. Tā arī ir, tas nebija mīlestības stāsts. Tas bija stāsts par mīlestību. Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin and they end with no lasting memory made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life. Un filma man lika atgriezties pie Temper Trap.