Ray: Hey, Mom and Dad, I think I know what I'm gonna get you for Christmas.
Frank: Better not be a pet. I hate people who give pets.
Ray: Yeah, yeah, we know, Dad.
Frank: Giving a pet means "You're old, I find you boring. Talk to a bird."

Frank: What did you do? Try to soften her up with a big present so you could go play golf?
Ray: For your information, Dad, it's a little more complicated than that.
Frank: You're an idiot. Give me that chocolate. Sit down. Let me tell you something about women. You think you've got to butter them up to get what you want. That is a poor man's game. "Oh, sweetums, here's some flowers. Can I go to the lodge?" Not for me. Not for me! I don't do that nice crap.
Robert: So how do you get what you want?
Frank: I've learned to do without.

Marie: Frank, why can't you put a little more thought into what you got me?
Frank: Slippers are very thoughtful. Every day, I see your feet when you get out of bed. So I thought and I thought and I thought... "What can I get to cover up those things?"

Debra: You know, Ray what was it that we were doing in the city that reminded you of "To Kill a Mockingbird"?
Ray: What?
Debra: Remember? Remember, you said, "We were in the city," and I said, "Oh my God!" What was that?
Ray: Right. Right. Well we were in the city, and you said, "Oh my God," because of all the pigeons that there were that day in the city. And I thought, "Pigeons... Birds... Of a feather flock together... Flock, mock-ing bird" Merry Christmas!
Debra: Oh, wow!
Robert: Wow!
Ray: I know, right? It's funny how the mind works, isn't it?

Marie: So you two didn't even help pick them out?
Robert: No no, I-I helped. I wrapped it.
Marie: Don't lie, Robbie. Everybody knows you can't work a tape dispenser with your giant fingers.