ER

Mark: What are you thinking about, Doug? Doug: Carol... I'm in love with her. I mean, I used to think I knew what love was. I cared about a lot of women. I just don't think I've ever really been in love. I think about her all the time. I don't like it when I'm not with her, I don't want to be with anyone else. That's love, isn't it? Mark: Yeah. That's love.

(while dumping his father's ashes off a cliff in the desert) Doug: I hated the son of a bitch. And I loved him.

Doug: I'm confused now. Your father's still alive, right? He's still with your mother. Mark: So that's the criteria for a good father? Longevity? Doug: Did he smack you around a lot? Used to smack your mom around? Mark: Poor Doug. Doug: Wait. Poor Doug? Your father, did he, did he come into your room in the middle of the night and throw up on your bed and pass out? Did he do that? Did he leave you in a hallway in Atlantic City while he screwed some hat check girl, Mark? Did he do that? Did he do that, Mark? Your father was there for you every night, you and your mother. And that's love. Now, whether it's the way you want it or not, it's love, Mark. You grew up in Ozzie and Harriet land. Get your head out of your ass.