Debra: You are such a pessimist.
Ray: I am not a pessimist.
Debra: Oh, no? You are incapable of seeing the good in anything. What is that called?
Ray: A realist. And I can see the good in a lot of things, okay? How about last year when we went skiing and I didn't break anything?
Debra: That's because you sat in the lodge the whole time, saying: "I don't wanna break anything."
Ray: I enjoyed it in my own way. I liked the hot chocolate. Although, I hear now that fake sweetener stuff will kill you. It's crazy.

Debra: Ray, what is wrong with you? This isn't a lame event. This is a black-tie, prestigious thing. And if you win, it could really be good for your career.
Ray: No, come on. Good for my career? No. Awards mean nothing, all right? Best thing to do is just forget about it.
Debra: You think you're gonna lose.
Ray: Of course!
Debra: But this is so fantastic, Ray. Look at this: "Sportswriter of the Year." I mean, this is great just to be nominated.
Ray: "It's great just to be nominated." That's what the loser says. That's the title of the loser handbook.
Debra: Have you ever thought of something? You might actually win this.
Ray: Look, Debra, don't make me want this.
Debra: It's okay to want things, Ray.
Ray: No, you're wrong. Right now, my expectations are right here, this high. When I fall from here I sprain an ankle, I limp away. That's all. If I fall from where you're talking about... splat. I'm Splat, the loser. "Hey, any words for us, Splat?" "It was great just to be nominated."

Debra: Ice cream.
Ray: Fat.
Debra: See. Right to the negative. Beach.
Ray: Sunburn.
Debra: Marriage.
Ray: Counselor.
Debra: Bad.
Ray: Worse.
Debra: Steak.
Ray: Stroke.
Debra: Sex.
Ray: Twins.
Debra: I think I proved my point.

Frank: Here's another one: Pellagra. "Characterized by skin eruptions, digestive and nervous system disturbances, and eventual mental deterioration."
Marie: Ugh, that's disgusting.
Frank: You want me to keep going?
Marie: Couple more.
Frank: Ooh, impetigo.
Ray: [enters] Hey, everybody. What are you doing?
Frank: Just reading up on diseases. You got no idea what's out there.

Debra: What? What's the problem?
Ray: Gotta go to the bathroom.
Debra: So go.
Ray: No. Too tired. I gotta go all the way around and come all the way back. I hate this side of the bed. You're closer. You go to the bathroom for me.
Debra: Oh, not this again. Ray, you chose that side, you wanted that side you made your bed, now just shut up in it.
Ray: I never should've took this side. I went with my childhood instinct. I took the side away from the door in case the boogieman comes in. If the boogieman gets you I'm in my spaceship by then.
Debra: What if he comes in through the window?
Ray: I gotta go to the bathroom.

Debra: See, that award was good. Something good came from that, too.
Ray: Right. I gotta admit I almost had some negative thoughts there, you know. I was tempted to think promotion: More responsibility, intense pressure stomach ulcers, hair loss, bleeding gums. But I didn't. I just pushed those thoughts right out of my mind and I thought, everything's great because I'm coming home to my family.
Debra: Oh, honey. Ray, this is really a huge step for you.
Ray: It is. Yeah. And you know, even though I got a promotion I'm gonna look at the bright side.

Marie: That's wonderful, dear. How much you win?
Ray: I got a trophy, Ma. Big, big trophy.
Frank: No cash?
Ray: No. No, just the trophy. But because of that trophy...
Marie: That's nice. You got a nice trophy. Nice gold trophy.
Ray: Actually it's silver, Ma.
Marie: Well, I thought silver was for second place. I'm sure it's a very nice trophy.
Frank: Yeah. You bust your ass all year long, at least they could throw you a few dollars.
Ray: Dad, it's more of a prestige thing.
Frank: Yeah? Take the prestige thing to the market and see how many eggs you bring home.

Ray: That's a two-week dog sled race in 35-below weather. Stankovich covered that last year and lost a toe.
Debra: I'm sorry. It sounds terrible.
Ray: Yeah, it is. [smiles]
Debra: Why are you smiling? This isn't exactly good news.
Ray: Not exactly good news? Honey, this is horrible. I knew this was gonna happen.
Debra: Then why aren't you upset?
Ray: Because I was right. Oh, God. I was right. I was walking around all day pretending there wasn't gonna be any bad news. But here it is: Bad news. Hello, old friend.
Debra: Ray, come on, you're falling off the wagon.
Ray: No. I'm a pessimist. That's who I am. It's in my blood. This is where I feel comfortable. I'm back.
Debra: No, Ray, you are just sick. You're not happy unless you're miserable.
Ray: Bingo. Come on, let's go have some crummy leftovers and then after dinner, we'll just sit like lumps and watch a stupid video.
Debra: Yeah, well, the kids broke the VCR. [Ray laughs]

Marie: Is that a spot on your uniform, Robbie?
Robert: Oh, this? Oh, no, that's just a little something that the Lieutenant pinned on a particularly deserving officer at roll call this morning.
Frank: What did you get, a condemnation?
Robert: Commendation, Dad.

Debra: I always told you, you're a great writer.
Ray: Don't get excited, 'cause I'm not going to this thing.
Debra: Why not?
Ray: It's a stupid, meaningless award, that's all.
Frank: Well, can I still go? They got wheelbarrows full of shrimp there.
Ray: Nobody's going, okay? These events are always lame.
Debra: Why are you being so negative?
Frank: Yeah, what's the matter? You don't like shrimp? Come on, Marie, I'm hungry.