Ray: Wait. What's wrong with me being in this bathroom? What? Every time I spit on you, I wipe you off.
Debra: I know. I know that, and I appreciate it. It's just that there's always puddles of water on the floor after you shower, and you leave your wet towel on the tub. You use my roll-on deodorant. You take...
Ray: Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I don't use your roll-on deodorant, okay? That goes against everything I stand for.
Debra: Ray, I found a hair.
Ray: All right, one time! One! One! One lousy swipe. That hair must have been very loose.
Debra: Okay. It's okay. I threw the whole thing out before it ever touched me.
Ray: Do I disgust you? I disgust you, don't I?
Debra: No! No, no. Not all the time. It's just that there's no room for my stuff. Do you know how much I would love to have a thing of Q-tips right here? Or have my curling iron always plugged in? Or my makeup laid out where I could see everything instead of stuffed in a box under the sink?

Frank: I'll tell you why she's happy: She's the king now. And who are you? Look at yourself in the toaster! You're the court jester, shavin' in the kitchen sink. You listen to me, you dope! You take back this house, or pretty soon you'll be outside pitchin' a tent over the sandbox!

Frank: You just gave up the bathroom? That's the most important room of the house. It's the only place a man can truly express himself.
Ray: Oh, I'm familiar with some of your expressions, Dad.
Frank: I'm not kiddin' around, Mary Alice. Let the woman have the kitchen and the bedroom. The bathroom belongs to the king.
Robert: Yes, and it appears Raymond has abdicated his throne.
Ray: It's no big deal, all right? This is a compromise you make when you live with a person.
Frank: Compromise. That's what the loser says to explain what happened.