Ray: Listen, Dad, when I was taking piano lessons as a kid how come you never, you know...
Frank: Killed myself? [laughs]
Ray: I was going to say "encouraged me."
Frank: Encouraged your piano lessons? Why the hell would I do that?
Ray: I don't know. I heard some parents were into encouraging, Dad. You know? Maybe you could've been better about it.
Frank: What in the holy name of crap are you talking about?

Marie: You know, when I was a girl, I loved the piano. And my mother wanted me to play, too. But she had these ridiculous expectations for me. And I always disappointed her.
Ray: How?
Marie: Fingers, short and stubby. But then, the point is that I love music. And I wanted to impart some of that to Robbie and you. Except that every time your brother sat down at the piano.
Ray: Nosebleeds, yeah.
Marie: I mean, a mother shouldn't be disgusted, but... Yuck.

Ray: Well, I know why I quit. It was Dad.
Marie: No, no, no. It wasn't your father, it was you. Okay, your father, his idea of culture is an undershirt with sleeves. But you were the one who lost interest in the piano, Raymond.
Ray: No, I liked the piano.
Marie: No, you liked the idea of the piano.
Ray: I liked the lessons.
Marie: We had nice times. But you wanted to go with the other boys. Running and punching and spitting. [chuckles] What could I do? I had to let you go. I didn't want to be my mother.
Ray: Thanks, Ma.
Marie: Just know, you could've been something.
Ray: ... Thanks.
Marie: Just promise me that even if you don't play, you'll somehow have music. It is so important to have music.

Frank: [o.s.] Hey, any more pretzels or what?
Marie: You got legs? I'm not your damn slave girl.
Frank: Girl? Ha!
Marie: Ha? I'll give you "ha."

Ray: Ma. So you want to try giving me a couple more lessons?
Marie: Why? You don't have to do it for me, Raymond.
Ray: I know. It's for Ally. I want her to have music, too.