Joel: Is there any risk of brain damage?
Howard: Well, technically speaking, the operation is brain damage,
but it's on a par with a night of heavy drinking.
Nothing you'll miss.
Patrick: Baby, whats wrong?
Clementine: I don't know! I DON'T KNOW! I'm lost! I'm scared! I feel like I'm disappearing!
MY SKIN'S COMING OFF! I'M GETTING OLD!
Nothing makes any sense to me!
NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE!
Joel: Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?
Clementine: You know me, I'm impulsive.
Joel: That's what I love about you.
Clementine: Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours.
Joel: I can't see anything that I don't like about you.
Clementine: But you will! But you will. You know, you will think of things.
And I'll get bored with you and feel trapped because that's what happens with me.
Joel: Okay.
Clementine: [pauses] Okay.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! /
The world forgetting, by the world forgot /
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! /
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd.