Agent Garfield: Mrs. Barone, you seem like an intelligent woman.
Marie: Thank you. Have a cookie.
Agent Garfield: Do you really think that a mother interfering to the extent that you have could possibly help a man get a job with the FBI? There's something else going on.
Marie: He was supposed to retire! He's a year away from not being a police officer. Which means I could stop worrying about him every second of the day. I want him to be safe. Now he wants to go from one dangerous job to another? How long do I have to walk around with a knot in my stomach? Forever? I can't do it anymore. It's too much! But he wants this job. It'll make him happy. And he should be happy. So, yes, he should have this job. Please, give him this job.
Agent Garfield: I can't do that.
Marie: No. No, don't blame him, you can punish me! Put one of those tracking things on my legs so I can't get out of the house. And if you met my husband, you'd know that's punishment enough.

Marie: Raymond, do you see what they see?
Ray: Um... I don't know.
Marie: No, tell me the truth.
Ray: Well... Maybe if I squint a little.
Marie: Oh, my God, I'm a lesbian!

Marie: Your birthday gift to me finally came this morning. Did you know you sent me a box of pears?
Ray: Yeah. Yeah.
Marie: From a place called Fruit-of-the-Month?
Ray: That's right. How are they?
Marie: Oh, they're very nice pears. But there are so many of them. There are over a dozen pears. What am I supposed to do with all those pears?
Ray: I think you're supposed to eat them, Ma.
Marie: Myself?
Ray: You and Dad and Robert.
Marie: How many pears can Robert eat? Look, I appreciate the thought, Raymond, but please, don't ever send us any more fruit again. Thanks.

Marie: I just want to ask you something. Do you ever have any doubts about how good a mother you are?
Debra: Yes, of course-
Marie: No, no, I mean severe doubts. And have you any idea what it's like to be married to a husband who never helps you at all?
Debra: Go ahead.
Marie: And when you go to him for support, he only enhances those doubts? That was my life. Imagine little Michael, who loves you, who lights up whenever you get near him. Imagine him at 14, and he doesn't talk to you anymore. And you don't want to push him, so you just give him more love. And then one night you make him his favorite dinner, and you try to give him a kiss good night, and he goes up the stairs with a grunt. And you come across his journal, and you open it, and it says, "I hate my Mom." I wouldn't wish that on you, Debra.
Debra: Ray.
Ray: What?
Debra: Apologize to your mother.
Ray: I- I already did.
Debra: Do it again!

Sister Ann: Mrs. Barone, hello. Is that the sculpture you intended to contribute to the church auction?
Marie: Yes.
Sister Ann: Well, don't you think the subject matter is... Might be inappropriate?
Marie: Subject matter? What do you mean?
Sister Ann: Forgive me, but is that not a sculpture of... [whispers to Marie]
Marie: What?! What's wrong with you?
Sister Ann: It's just that it may not be right for the church-
Marie: Are you crazy?!

Robert: This again?!
Marie: A woman ate a fly? Nobody believes your stories, Robbie. Just say it.
Robert: No!
Marie: "I'm a gay."
Robert: What?
Marie: You'll feel better. "Hello, I'm queer, and now I'm here!"
Ray: Who says that?
Marie: That's the slogan. Just admit it already!

Ray: All right, look, Dad. We think you should know that Ally was kind of upset about what happened with the guy at the market.
Frank: Okay. Turn the TV back on.
Marie: Wait a second. What happened?
Frank: Aw, the jackass fruit guy accused me of stealing.
Marie: Frank, please! They're homosexuals.

Ray: It's a different fruit every month.
Marie: Every month?
Ray: Yes. Yes. That's why they call it Fruit-of-the-Month Club.
Marie: It's a club? Oh, my God! What do I do with all this fruit?
Ray: Well, most people like it, Ma! You share it. Share it with all your friends.
Marie: Which friends?
Ray: I don't know. Lee and Stan.
Marie: Lee and Stan buy their own fruit.
Ray: Well, give it to-
Marie: Oh, why did you do this to me?
Ray: My God!
Marie: I can't talk. There's too much fruit in the house!

Marie: Okay, yes! Frank and I succumbed to temptation once. Just once before we were married. I was weak and I fell for your father's boyish good looks. That was a long time ago. I knew we shouldn't do what we did, but we were in love. Right, Frank?
Frank: I wanted sex. It was a long time ago.
Debra: So, it was just the once, and then you got married?
Frank: It was just the once, and then we had to get married.
Marie: Frank, no!
Ray: Whoa, whoa, whoa. "Had to get married"? Wait. Wait a minute. So, Robert's...
Robert: What? Oh!
Marie: All right. It's true. We got married after I found out I was pregnant. And then Robbie came along seven months later.
Frank: Our plan was to tell people he was two months premature. Then he was born. Try passing off a 12-pound baby as premature.
Marie: Try passing it, period.

Marie: All right, Deb, we're gonna... All right, we've had in the past, we've had our share of tiffs but I truly believe it's because you misunderstand me. I am not interested in a relationship of artificial pleasantries and phony smiles. You never ever have to pretend with me. I'm always honest with you, aren't I? And if I see something that you desperately need help with, like cooking, cleaning, the children, your hair, I care so much that I have to say something 'cause I want to help. Oh, honey. You don't have to be worried, dear. I forgive you for today. And I'm always here to help.
Ray: Voila.