The existence of life is a highly overrated phenomenon.
— Dr. Manhattan

There’s no scientific consensus that life is important.
— Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth

Laurie is crying. On Mars.

DR. MANHATTAN: Will you smile . . . if I admit I was wrong?

LAURIE: . . . About what?

DR. MANHATTAN: . . . Miracles . . . Events with astronomical odds of occurring, like . . . oxygen turning into gold. . . . I’ve longed to witness such an event, and yet, I neglect that in human coupling, millions upon millions of cells compete to create life, for generation after generation, until . . . finally . . . your mother . . . loves a man — Edward Blake, the Comedian, a man she has every reason to hate, and out of that contradiction against unfathomable odds:  it’s you. Only you that emerged. To distill so specific a form, from all that chaos . . . is like turning air into gold. . . A miracle.

Laurie smiles faintly.

And so . . . I was wrong.
Now dry your eyes. . . And let’s go home.

[From Watchmen — the movie, not the graphic novel. I’m just winging the punctuation.]