Michael: Shouldn't Buster be spending his evenings with women that aren't so much his mother?
Lucille: He's a beautiful boy. They don't appreciate him. It's his glasses. They make him look like a lizard. Plus, he's self-conscious.
Michael: Gee, I wonder why.
Lucille: You're one to talk. When's the last time you went on a date?
Michael: I just haven't met anybody who's not self-absorbed and impossible to have a conversation with.
Lucille: If that's a veiled criticism about me, I won't hear it and I won't respond to it.

Lindsay: Buster's out of control.
Michael: What do you mean, another panic attack?
Buster: Me? No. She's just wigged out because I have a girlfriend.
Lucille: A waiter hands him a note; suddenly he's Steve McQueen. He doesn't even know what she looks like.
Buster: I know she's a brownish area with points. And I know I love her.
Lucille: I'm calling Dr. Miller. [exits]
Buster: Okay, I don't know I love her but I cannot tell you how liberating it is to be with someone who's not Mom who's nothing like her.
Michael: Yeah, and you're just you're just jumping right into this, huh?
Buster: Oh, yes. Yes. That's what you do when life hands you a chance to be with someone special. You just grab that that brownish area by its points and you don't let go, no matter what your mom says. Mmm!
Michael: Good talk.

Lindsay: Bulldozing? What about the trees?
Michael: We're just gonna cover them up with blankets. [off Lindsay's look] I'm ripping them out.
Lindsay: Anything for a buck, right? You are so materialistic.
Michael: Don't suddenly turn this into one of your causes.
Lindsay: It's not sudden, Michael. I've always been deeply passionate about nature. Perhaps you remember Neuterfest?
Michael: I'll never forget your wedding.
Lindsay: I care deeply for nature.
Michael: You're wearing ostrich skin boots.
Lindsay: Well, I don't care about ostriches.