Marie: See, I expect this from Frank, but you boys have no reason to have any interest in such things.
Frank: Why not?
Marie: Because I never nursed them.
Frank: What the hell are you talking about?
Marie: Everybody knows that if you breastfeed boys when they're babies they're gonna grow up to be obsessed with breasts.
Robert: That's why you didn't breastfeed me?
Frank: That, and the two of you were almost the same height. We were gettin' looks.

Ray: All right. I like you and your breasts.
Debra: And I like you and your breasts.
Ray: Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Debra: What?
Ray: Wait a minute. Wait a minute. What'd you say breasts for?
Debra: You just said it.
Ray: Yeah, but you have breasts. I don't have breasts.
Debra: Pecs, I meant to say pecs.
Ray: I know what you said and I know what you meant. You meant my sagging breasts. I've had three kids too, you know.

Debra: Oh, God. I am so sick of this juvenile preoccupation with boob size and perkiness and cleavage and... I've had three kids, you know? These are not just for show. These were working breasts.
Ray: Come on, honey. Oh, come on. You say that like they're retired. They're still useful. They can do some occasional consulting work.