[Jerry's latest passenger sighs contendedly as they pull away from the curb.]
Jerry Fletcher: The sound of love.
Passenger: Excuse me?
Jerry: That, what you just did. [imitates sigh] That's love.
Passenger: Love's just a pretty way of saying, "I want to sleep with you."
Jerry: Admit it. I saw you kiss her. This is the street where love lives.
Passenger: Love is bullshit.
Jerry: Love give you wings. It makes you fly. I don't even call it love. I call it "Geronimo".
Passenger: Geronimo?
Jerry: Yeah, Geronimo. See, when you're in love, you'll jump off the Empire State and you won't care. Screaming, "Geronimo" all the way down. It's great.
Passenger: Yeah, but then you'll die. You'll squash yourself. So what's the point?
Jerry: Hey, aren't you listening? I'm telling you, man -- love gives you wings!
Passenger: [laughs] She must be some girl.
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