Marie: Oh, I couldn't wish for a nicer daughter-in-law.
Frank: Let's celebrate with some lasagna.
Amy: Wait, wait, wait, wait! We're not getting married.
Marie: Of course, you're getting married. Don't be silly. That makes everything all right.
Amy: Robert, six months ago when I asked about our future you freaked out and we broke up. Now you're ready to get married just because you're afraid of what your mother thinks?
Marie: Sometimes a mother knows best, dear.
Amy: Sometimes a mother should just butt out!
Frank: Hey, Robert, you've got to marry this one. [chuckles]

Marie: I will not be talked to that way.
Amy: Look, sorry. I've had a very rough couple of days here. I wait my whole life for the right time and the right man to be my first, and now an entire building has a petition against me. And then the second time I'm with my first, his mother walks in on us. And now you're ready to get married just to make her happy? What is this hold she has on you?
Ray: [to Debra] See, it's not just me.
Amy: I can't even cry, because if I dab my eyes, my pants will fall down. So excuse me, Marie, for not being polite. And by the way, sometimes the noodles in your lasagna are overcooked. [storms out; all gasp]
Marie: Clearly, that is not the girl for you. You understand, Robby? Robby? Robby! [Robert leaves] Where is he going?
Frank: Maybe his wallet is in those pants.

Marie: You are out of control, young man.
Robert: No I'm not, Ma.
Frank: Hard to make that argument without pants.
Marie: He gets that from you. you with your dirty magazines.
Frank: One "Playboy." For 29 years?
Marie: I mean, who keeps pornography for 29 years?
Frank: Anyone married to you.