Frank: What did you do? Try to soften her up with a big present so you could go play golf?
Ray: For your information, Dad, it's a little more complicated than that.
Frank: You're an idiot. Give me that chocolate. Sit down. Let me tell you something about women. You think you've got to butter them up to get what you want. That is a poor man's game. "Oh, sweetums, here's some flowers. Can I go to the lodge?" Not for me. Not for me! I don't do that nice crap.
Robert: So how do you get what you want?
Frank: I've learned to do without.

Ray: Hey, Mom and Dad, I think I know what I'm gonna get you for Christmas.
Frank: Better not be a pet. I hate people who give pets.
Ray: Yeah, yeah, we know, Dad.
Frank: Giving a pet means "You're old, I find you boring. Talk to a bird."

Ray: Look, see. Listen. When you get the plastic off, all you do is insert the disc, you close the tray, put the selector on CD, and press "play."
Marie: We're not astronauts, Raymond.
Ray: Fine. I'll write it down for you, Ma.

Frank: I remember this letter. I had all the stuff I was going to do when I retire on this.
Marie: Was "being nicer to your wife" on there?
Frank: Might as well have been. It's all ridiculous crap. "Fix up a '57 Chevy and drive it across the country." Why would I want to do that? That's where California is. You all know how I feel about California...
All: Yes.
Frank: A state full of nut jobs, hippies, and artsy-fartsies. Drive across country? I'd rather drive off a cliff!
Marie: I'll warm up the car.

Marie: Frank, why can't you put a little more thought into what you got me?
Frank: Slippers are very thoughtful. Every day, I see your feet when you get out of bed. So I thought and I thought and I thought... "What can I get to cover up those things?"

Ray: I'll tell you what. My mother and my father, we're through with 'em!
Debra: You read my letter to Santa.

Frank: This one says "For Debra from Ra." R-r-r-a... Looks like "Rap."
Ray: You think it might be Ray, Dad?
Frank: No.
Marie: Frank, put your glasses on. You're blind.
Frank: And what would be the upside of seeing you more clearly?

Frank: Hey, Marie, let's go. I need a damn sandwich before I get cranky.
Ray: Dad, look at all this stuff. It's just sittin' here.
Frank: What, Mount Crapmore?
Ray: This stuff, it's not crap, Dad. Mom, you should put this microwave in the kitchen. It's great. Debra has the same model.
Marie: Well, I'm sold.
Ray: Dad, you want a pot roast? You can have it in 15 minutes with this.
Marie: I can get it in 10 with this. [points to Marie]
Ray: Okay, how about this, automatic garage-door opener? You don't gotta break your back liftin' the door. [Frank points to Marie again]

Debra: I knew you would like this. And I love my pots! I'm gonna try 'em out right now.
Marie: Well, I better go help her. They're not magic pots.

Debra: You know, Ray what was it that we were doing in the city that reminded you of "To Kill a Mockingbird"?
Ray: What?
Debra: Remember? Remember, you said, "We were in the city," and I said, "Oh my God!" What was that?
Ray: Right. Right. Well we were in the city, and you said, "Oh my God," because of all the pigeons that there were that day in the city. And I thought, "Pigeons... Birds... Of a feather flock together... Flock, mock-ing bird" Merry Christmas!
Debra: Oh, wow!
Robert: Wow!
Ray: I know, right? It's funny how the mind works, isn't it?