Brenda: You don’t really believe in God, do you?

Nate: Well yeah. I mean, I don’t believe in some bearded old white guy up on a cloud but I believe in something. Some sort of undefinable, creative force.

Brenda: I think it’s just all totally random.

Nate: Really?

Brenda: Yeah. We live. We die. Ultimately nothing means anything.

Nate: How can you live like that?

Brenda: I don’t know. Sometimes I wake up so fucking empty I wish I had never been born but what choice do I have?