Marie: Look at these. Look at these hands. I used to make angel hair pasta with these hands. And now I'm a grease monkey!
Ray: You have to talk to him, Ma.
Marie: No, he doesn't listen to me. You think I like doing this? I have a life, too. I could be out learning French.
Ray: Ma, you wouldn't do that.
Marie: We'll never know, will we?

Frank: Marie, I got to get my thoughts down on tapioca. "Like it or lump it."
Marie: No, that's enough for today. I'm gonna go lie down under the car.

Frank: Did you hear Howie Simon's son sold a funny little anecdote to the Reader's Digest?
Ray: Yeah? Okay, good. Good for him.
Frank: That's $50.
Ray: Yeah?
Frank: So why can't you do something like that?
Ray: Dad. I'm a writer, Dad. The newspaper pays me to write full-time.
Frank: Look, I'm not talking about the sports column. That's great. I'm talking on the side.
Ray: Funny anecdotes on the side?
Frank: Yeah, that's free money for you.
Ray: Yeah, okay.

Frank: We're talking the Digest here, Ray. You know the kind of talent it takes to take a novel like this and put it on a page and a half? That's writing!
Ray: All right, enough already, Dad. If you like the magazine so much why don't you write something for it yourself?
Frank: What do you mean?
Marie: Yeah, he's right. Why don't you get off your rear end and do it yourself? I think it's a very good idea.
Frank: You do?
Marie: Uh-huh.
Ray: You go write something for the Reader's Digest, I'm gonna go home and fake hunger. Give me that chop.
Frank: The Reader's Digest. They do have some funny stuff in there. [laughs]

Ray: Oh, boy, what're we watching?
Debra: Wee Sing in Sillyville. Guess what? It's on mornings and evenings now. Twice as silly.
Ally: [sings] There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmitt.
Ray: Okay. We have to cancel cable.

Frank: Attention, everybody. Guess who is now a published writer. What are you talking about? Today, the mailman brought me fame and fortune. The Reader's Digest, over 27 million copies sold in 19 languages. And all around the world, each and every reader will now open to Page 64, the "Humor in Uniform" section. Well, what are you waiting for?
Ray: [laughs] How did that happen? Did you know about it? You knew he was doing this?
Marie: Please! You think he'd get this done by himself? The man can't wipe his own chin.
Frank: Marie was my little typist.
Marie: Don't call me a little typist.

Frank: Ray, what do you think?
Ray: Oh, it's a classic, Dad.
Frank: And that's not all, look at this: A check for $300. I'd frame it, but then I couldn't take my little typist out for a fancy dinner.
Marie: Every time you call me that, it's gonna cost you $300. [takes the check]

Debra: He's the Everyman.
Ray: Can you imagine if every man was Frank Barone? Boy, wouldn't Sizzler love that. Do me a favor, please keep Everyman out of here.
Debra: How am I supposed to do that?
Ray: How fast can you make a pot roast?

Ray: This whole writing thing, Dad, I'm glad you found it 'cause it's good to have something.
Frank: You mean the Digest?
Ray: All right, I'm gonna give you $1,000 if you stop calling it "the Digest."
Frank: Fair enough.

Frank: You know, I'm glad you said that because there is something I was afraid to ask you.
Ray: What? "Frank Barone's 'l Was Just Thinking."' Yeah, my thoughts on a bunch of subjects. You know, infomercials. The new-car smell. Minute Rice. Stuff like that, it's all there.
Ray: Yeah, it is. Why do I have it?
Frank: Well, you said you wanted to be honest. I honestly think this would make a great column in your paper.
Ray: My paper?!
Frank: Yeah, why don't you pass it on to the editor?
Ray: You want me to show this to my editor?!
Frank: Thank you, Ray. [with a pipe in his mouth] And tell him I look forward to his feedback.