Debra: Please, you are actually killing me.
Marie: See what you're doing to her? Go, go, go, please. She needs her rest.
Frank: She should be up and moving around. She should walk it off.
Marie: You don't know what you're talking about. You and your cheap coats. I know what sick people need. They need rest and peace and quiet.
Debra: All right, I know where the ketchup is. Upper left, refrigerator door. Upper left.
Frank: That's all I needed to know. Feel better, sweetheart.