Joe Black: Yes...
Bill: Yes, what?
Joe Black: Yes is the answer to your question.
Bill: What question?
Joe Black: Oh, Bill, come on. The question. The question you've been asking yourself with increased regularity, at odd moments, panting through the extra game of handball, when you ran for the plane in Delhi, when you sat up in bed last night and hit the floor in the office this morning. The question that is in the back of your throat, choking the blood to your brain, ringing in your ears over and over as you put it to yourself.
Bill: The question...
Joe Black: Yes, Bill, the question. The question.
Bill: Am I going to die?
Joe Black: Yes.
William Parrish: You want me to be your guide?
Joe Black: You fit the bill, Bill.
William Parrish: [Walking along a crowded sidewalk] You know, I got to thinking. With you here and seemingly occupied, how's your work going, I mean, elsewhere?
Joe Black: While you were shaving this morning, you weren't just shaving.
William Parrish: What do you mean?
Joe Black: You were hatching ideas, making plans, arriving at decisions, right?
William Parrish: Yeah, I guess so
Joe Black: So you get the concept. While part of you is doing one thing, another part of you is doing another, perhaps even attending to the problems of your work. Correct?
William Parrish: Of course
Joe Black: So you understand the idea. Congratulations, Bill. Now multiply that by infinity, take that to the depth of forever, and you still will barely have a glimpse of what I'm talking about.
William Parrish: Do you know about money?
Joe Black: It can't buy happiness?
Drew: ...the truth is, joining John Bontecou is every bit as certain as death and taxes.
Joe Black: Death and taxes?
Drew: Yes.
Joe Black: Death and taxes?
Drew: Yes.
Joe Black: What an odd pairing.
Allison: I should have my head examined again.
Joe Black: Should you choose to test my resolve in this matter, you will be facing a finality beyond your comprehension, and you will not be counting days, or months, or years, but milleniums in a place with no doors.
Drew: And who would've thought... you, an IRS agent.
Joe Black: Death and taxes.
Susan Parrish: Love, passion, obsession, all those things you told me to wait for, well, they've arrived. What are you afraid of, Dad? That I'll fall head over heels for Joe? Well, I have.
Susan Parrish: Tell me you love me now.
Joe Black: I love you now. I love you always.
Joe Black: Thank you for loving me.
Susan Parrish: Do you love making love to me?
Joe Black: Yes.
Susan Parrish: More than peanut butter?
Joe Black: Yes. Much more.
Joe Black: I don't care Bill. I love her.
William Parrish: How perfect for you - to take whatever you want because it pleases you. That's not love.
Joe Black: Then what is it?
William Parrish: Some aimless infatuation which, for the moment, you feel like indulging - it's missing everything that matters.
Joe Black: Which is what?
William Parrish: Trust, responsibility, taking the weight for your choices and feelings, and spending the rest of your life living up to them. And above all, not hurting the object of your love.
Joe Black: So that's what love is according to William Parrish?
William Parrish: Multiply it by infinity, and take it to the depth of forever, and you will still have barely a glimpse of what I'm talking about.
Joe Black: Those were my words.
William Parrish: They're mine now.
William Parrish: You're at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong woman!
Joe Black: Are you threatening me?
William Parrish: Yeah, I certainly hope so.
Jamaican Woman: It nice it happen to you. Like you come to the island and had a holiday. Sun didn't burn you red-red, just brown. You sleep and no mosquito eat you. But the truth is, it bound to happen if you stay long enough. So take that nice picture you got in your head home with you, but don't be fooled. We lonely here mostly too. If we lucky, maybe, we got some nice pictures to take with us.
Susan Parrish: What will we do now?
Joe Black: It will come to us.
William Parrish: Should I be afraid?
Joe Black: Not a man like you.
Joe Black: ...But Allison loves you?
Quince: [Quince nods yes between stifled sobs]
Joe Black: How do you know?
Quince: Because she knows the worst thing about me and it's okay.
Joe Black: What is it?