PROPOSAL

- Let me explain something. The fact is, you've seen me at my worst, most embarassing, deviously plotting, potentially but not certifiably, psycotic state. And if you like me then, I mean, now... I can't imagine... Benedict. I love eggs Benedict, I hate all the other kinds.I hate big weddings with everybody staring. I would like to get married on a weekday while everybody is at work. If I ride off into the sunset, I want my own horse.
- Should I be writing this down?
- And one more thing. I know it's hard to believe there could be more. Um... If you could have a seat, please.
- Oh my God. No.
- No, no, don't hide your face, this only happens once in a lifetime. It's definitely a first to me, and you're not going to want to miss it. I love you, Homer Eisenhower Graham. Will you marry me?
- Maggie, I gotta think about this a little bit.
- Good.She gets off her knees and stands. I was hoping you'd say that.
- You were not.
- I was, because if you said "yes" right away, I wouldn't get to say this next part. And I've been practicing it.
- I'm listening.
- "I guarantee that we'll have tough times. I guarantee that at some point one or both oof us will want to get out. But I also guarantee that if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Because I know in my heart you're the only one for me".




Maggie Carpenter tiene demasiada razón.