Debra: First of all, it's not a book. It's pieces of construction paper.
Ray: You sound a bit close-minded.
Debra: Hey. Eileen, you have no idea what I have to put up with. When I got married, I didn't just get a husband, I got a whole freak show that set up their tent right across the street. And that- That would be fine, if they stayed there. But every day... Every day, they dump a truckload of their insane family dreck into my lap. How would you like to sit through two people in their 60s fighting over who invented the lawn? The lawn! And then the brother, "I live in an apartment. I don't even have a lawn. Raymond has a lawn." But you can't blame him when you see who the mother is. She has this kind of sick hold on the both of them. And the father's about as disgusting a creature as God has ever dropped onto this planet. So no wonder the kid writes stories! I should be writing stories. My life is a Gothic novel! And until you have lived in that house, with all of them in there with you day after day, week after week, year after friggin' year, you are in no position to judge me!

Debra: You know what, Ray? It's a private matter. And my parents, unlike yours, don't feel the need to inflict their lives on everybody else.
Ray: Or, maybe they're a little embarrassed, because as it turns out, they're not so perfect.
Debra: Yeah, or maybe they're just trying to work out their problems before their marriage degenerates into a screaming match like your parents. Arguing about how deep a pan is before it's a pot. "If it's three inches, it's a pot! Everybody knows that, Marie!" "If you can't boil an egg in it, it's not a pot, you jackass!"
Ray: Hey, either way, your perfect little Connecticut "Oh, make sure you cut the crust off my cucumber sandwich"-parents are frauds!
Debra: You listen. If my parents lit an orphanage on fire on Christmas Eve, they wouldn't be as bad as your parents!

Amy: I didn't mean to argue. It's thank-you notes. It's so stupid.
Debra: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. Look at me. You were great. Do you hear me? You can't let her get away with anything.
Amy: But she's so upset. I don't want a bad relationship with her. I should go apologize.
Debra: No, no, no, no, no. Hey, listen, that is exactly what she is waiting for, for you to go over there and say you'll write those thank-you notes. You have got to be strong. She is testing you. Trust me, what she just pulled here, that's her big weapon: the guilt bomb. And it doesn't help that all the men in her family are scared to death of her. Whenever she comes up against somebody with a backbone who might actually confront her, she's completely threatened and she gets her claws out. And so she has been allowed to rule this way, unopposed, for decades. Listen, Amy I have been waiting for you. This is a critical time. Even though this is a tough regime to topple, with you in the family, now we have a shot... you and me together, to end all the suffering. Do you hear me? We can do it!

Debra: No, that's okay. They're right. I'm not interesting. I don't have flair. I mean, maybe I would have flair if I, oh, barged into people's houses going, "[chuckles] What's that, dear? Frosting in a can? Oh, so much easier than homemade." Yeah, or what about, "I saw something questionable in the refrigerator. Ooh, it's gotten worse." [Ray and Robert chuckle]
Frank: She's doing you.
Debra: Maybe this is more interesting. "How are you fixed for pie, sweetheart?"
Ray: Take it easy, huh? Stop it.
Debra: Yeah, "I'm not listening anymore, doodah doodah."
Frank: She's very good. She's good. She's very good.
Ray: Very interesting, too. That's all.
Debra: How about this for some fascinating behavior? [eats chips, touching them to her chin] "Oh, never ends for Raymond. You're a lucky man, Raymond."
Ray: All right stop it. No.
Debra: "Everybody loves Raymond."
Robert: Do me now!

Ray: Let me tell you something: My father had a system. AIS. When we were kids and we were going on a car trip, he would set a time. "We're leaving 9:00! AIS!"
Debra: "AIS"?
Ray: "Ass in seat." If anyone's ass was not in their seat at the designated time, that ass was left behind.
Debra: So, in the fall, did you have to set your ass back an hour?

Debra: Do you still think she's trying to help me, hmm?
Ray: Listen, why would she go to all that trouble? Isn't it easier to leave out an ingredient?
Debra: For an amateur! My God! This even looks like basil! Look at the label. It fits perfectly on here. My God! You know, this is the work of an evil genius!
Ray: I don't get it.
Debra: You know what I don't get? I don't get that you couldn't see my side in this! You're so busy defending your saint of a mother that you make me out to be some kind of ungrateful nutcase! Well, who's the nutcase now, Ray? Who's the nutcase now?

Debra: You know, it's just a canister. It's a can. Everybody will get over it. I'm throwing it out.
Robert: Whoa! Excuse me, Deb. Not to get technical, but what you're considering is theft and destruction of property. And I can't let that happen to something that once belonged to my "Gammy."
Ray: Yeah, come on, Debra. My mother loves this thing.
Debra: All right, all right. Yeah you're right, and you're right, and your mother's right. Okay? Everybody's right except for me. I just thought that, you know for once, she respected me enough to apologize. But I screwed up, so you know what? Give me the thing, I will take it back to her and I will let her say whatever she's gonna say. [opens the door] Nobody's gonna stop me? Nobody cares what happens to me? Or not even to me, but let's just say I bring this thing back, and then she thinks she's always right. And she has more power than ever. When you say, "Mom, I don't want to marry that girl. I think you're wrong about her." "Oh, really? Was I wrong about the canister?" Or you, when you say, "Mom, you know, I don't think you should move in with us now that Dad has passed." "Oh, have you forgotten about the canister?!" But you guys do what you want.
Robert: It is just a canister.
Ray: I'm gonna turn my back, you do what you have to do.

Marie: Debra. Debra.
Debra: What?
Marie: Do you need my help?
Debra: God, no!
Marie: Sir, we have her drinking completely under control now.
Debra: Ray!
Ray: Open your shirt.
Mr. Rodell: Mrs. Barone-
Debra: This is exactly what she did at the shower! This is what she always does! She just has to run my life. That's why I yelled at her at the shower, that's why I couldn't call her for a ride home, and that's why I am here, sir. Yes, I had a few drinks. I should be drunk every day! But I'm not, because I do not have a drinking problem, sir. What I have is a mother-in-law problem!

Debra: Do you know what time it is? Come to bed.
Ray: Can't sleep.
Debra: Oh, listen. You got to stop feeling guilty about getting your parents back together. You know what? Think of them as, like, a terrible virus. If they had met other people, the misery would've spread. You kept it contained.

Ray: What, you want me to have the sex talk with her?
Debra: Yeah, right.
Ray: What, you don't think I can do it? I'll have the sex talk with her.
Debra: You know what, Ray? You can be there, and I'll explain it to the both of you.