Ray: You're not gonna make a dress, Ma. I still remember when you forced me and Robert to wear your homemade jeans.
Marie: They were very nice. They looked just like the kind the other boys were wearing.
Robert: They were velvet.
Marie: That denim is very abrasive.
Ray: Yeah, so were the other boys.

Ray: How much is it?
Clerk: These dresses are $250.
Ray: $250?!
Ally: I'll be in there.
Ray: No, wait a minute. Wait a minute. $250?!
Clerk: That's with the 10% discount for mentioning Peggy's name.
Ray: All right. Peggy, Peggy, Peggy, Peggy. How much is it now?

Jerry: Hey, Barone, you got roped into this too, huh?
Ray: Jerry, you know how much this dress is? It's $250!
Jerry: I know. I was gonna get a lawnmower.
Ray: Are you gonna pay for it? You know what I think? I think the parents should protest and refuse to buy this fancy crap. It would just teach Peggy that she's not the boss of us.
Jerry: Or get us all killed. I heard she once beat up a guy over some cookies.
Ray: Really? No, I heard that he beat her up, actually. Yeah, bad.

Clerk: Sir, would you like your daughter to try on the dress?
Ray: Let me ask you something: Don't you think that this is an awful lot of money to spend on a one-time thing?
Clerk: That's not for me to say, sir. But how can you put a price on the smile of this beautiful young woman?
Ray: You work on commission, don't you?

Ray: Peggy. Peggy, listen. Jerry. Jerry, come here. Some of us- Some of us are wondering, what are you thinking? I mean, a formal party for 13-year-olds? You know, I understand about milestones and bodies going through weird hormonals... but you're not even Jewish.
Peggy: I just thought it might be fun for one night if all the kids looked nice. I'm just sick of the belly shirts and the thongs sticking out of jeans cut down to here.
Ray: Well, hey, listen, I don't like stuff like that on girls under 21 either, okay? Ally doesn't dress like that. And- And Jerry and I think that it's outrageous to expect people to pay that much.
Jerry: Oh, look at the jewelry!
Peggy: Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You're a sportswriter. You make a lot of money.
Ray: No. I write about people that make a lot of money. And that's not the point, okay? What I make is none of your business. I still think this whole thing is nuts!
Peggy: All right, fine. Don't buy the dress. And you can explain to Ally why she will be the only girl there without one. She will stick out like a giant nose on a stupid face.

Ray: Look, Ally's still gonna look nice. We'll buy her a nice, normal-priced dress. I don't know what the big deal is.
Debra: Because you have never been a 13-year-old girl!
Ray: I think you're really running out of stuff to criticize me for.
Marie: You know, Debra, I know that you were raised in a house where money was no object. But do you really want to pass on these values to your children?
Ray: She's right. Look, I feel sorry for Ally too, but isn't it more important that we don't raise spoiled kids?
Debra: You're just saying that to impress your mother.
Marie: And he has.

Ray: See? She didn't say she hates me.
Frank: Don't worry, she was thinking it.

Debra: Can I ask you something? What made you change your mind? You had me thinking that you were right for once. And I was hating myself 'cause I was getting all sucked into this superficial crap about fitting in and looks and fashion. And I'm thinking, "Gee, you know, maybe Ray really has a great point." [sees Ally] Oh! Look at, you look beautiful! That is just gorgeous. You're so grown up! Want me to do your hair?
Ally: Yes, I would love that. Can I use your makeup?
Debra: Little blush? Just a little blush. And I have a bag that is so perfect for this. [both exit]
Ray: Humph. Peggy.

Ally: Hey, everybody.
Debra: Hey, Ally! Did you have fun at Molly's?
Ally: Yeah, she invited me to her birthday party. Dave's gonna be there.
Debra: Oh ho! [Ally goes upstairs]
Ray: Who's Dave?
Debra: Dave Yeager. She's only had a crush on him since like forever!
Ray: Oh, Dave! Okay. I know him as Dav...id.

Debra: Ooh! Get a load of this stationery.
Marie: Oh, nice.
Frank: [high-pitched] Ooh! Let me see!
Marie: Quiet, Frank.