Context: Its this young guy talking to his fairly old mum who got a phonecall saying that she's been selected to go on her favourite tv show. He's worried about her, she's obsessing over it.
[Old Mother]: I'm somebody now, Harry. Everybody likes me. Soon, millions of people will see me and they'll all like me. I'll tell them about you, and your father, how good he was to us. Remember? It's a reason to get up in the morning. It's a reason to lose weight, to fit in the red dress. It's a reason to smile. It makes tomorrow all right. What have I got Harry, hm? Why should I even make the bed, or wash the dishes? I do them, but why should I? I'm alone. Your father's gone, you're gone. I got no one to care for. What have I got, Harry? I'm lonely. I'm old. [Son]: You got friends, Ma.
[Old mother]: Ah, it's not the same. They don't need me. I like the way I feel. I like thinking about the red dress and the television and you and your father. Now when I get the sun, I smile
"If you could be either God's worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose? We're the middle children of history. We have no special purpose or place and unless we get God's attention, we have no hope of damnation or redemption. Which is worse: hell or nothing?... burn the museums, wipe your ass with the Mona Lisa. This way at least God will know your name."