Ray: That's really-
Debra: Really kind of sweet.
Ray: Sweet? What, that? They're not talking.
Debra: Well, it's like they don't have to.
Ray: I don't think it's 'cause they don't have to. I think it's 'cause they don't want to.
Debra: I don't know. They seemed so in tune.
[Ray and Debra return to the living room to observe Frank and Marie through the serving window. The pair are eating their sandwiches in silence, staring off in different directions]
Ray: I see cows.

Ray: And now my favorite part of Valentine's Day.
Debra: What?
Ray: The march of the red, silk boxers.
Debra: Are you kidding me?
Ray: You're right. Skip the dancing.
Debra: Wait a minute. We don't talk to each other all night now you just wanna have sex?
Ray: Not just. Hey, come on. We talked.
Debra: Oh, yeah, yeah. "This butter is the perfect temperature-slash-density."
Ray: Was I wrong?

Debra: You know what? We have nothing to say to each other. All we do is talk about the kids, or tell stories we've heard over and over and over.
Ray: What stories?
Debra: Robert swallowing that damn bee. I've heard that stupid story a million times, every time you see honey or a bee or a person with a puffy face.
Ray: Yeah, that's a million.
Debra: Or how about the time your dad put a possum in your tent during a camping trip and you literally jumped out of your skin?
Ray: What? It was scary.
Debra: Yeah, that's not literally. You literally jump out of your skin, you're dead. Body out of skin, dead.
Ray: How about you? You're always telling me about the story where you wore purple shoes and your feet sweated, and they turned purple. "It was like I was making wine." That's not funny.
Debra: I know. See? We have nothing to talk about and you don't even care.

Ray: Let me ask you something. If one was asked to read a book called "Devil Wood," one would be correct in assuming that the book was scary or exciting or had something "devilly" in it, wouldn't one?
Robert: One would.
Ray: Well, then one would be wrong.
Robert: What's going on, Raymond?
Ray: Debra wants me to read this so we have stuff in common. But I swear to God, this sucker's like a horse tranquilizer. Here, listen to this. Listen to this first line. "Imagine a rain so beautiful it must never have existed." What does that mean? What does that mean? Tell me, right now, what does that mean?
Robert: [chuckles] I don't know.
Ray: Yeah. Because it's nonsense talk. You have to close this book.

Debra: Hi, kids.
Ray: I said I would pick them up. Yeah, how you doing, kids? Listen, I was saying hello to my parents, huh? A guy can't greet his loved ones?
Debra: So you don't mind spending time with them?
Ray: Oh, come on. Will you give me a break? I tried, huh? Didn't I try? Oh, okay, I get it. You're mad at me for not talking to you, so now you're not talking to me. Isn't that interesting? Maybe you should think about that, huh? Put that pipe in your mouth, hmm? What? What are you looking at?
[Debra and Ray look through the serving window to see Marie cutting Frank's sandwich. The pair then eat the sandwiches in silence. Marie offers Frank a napkin. He lifts his glass to take a drink and notices it's empty. Marie passes the pitcher across. After Frank fills up his drink, Marie tries to fill hers up and realizes the pitcher is near empty. Frank sees this and tops her drink up with some of his. He then decides he's gone too far and tries to even the two glasses out. They both drink and then return to their sandwiches, all without saying a word.]
Frank: May we help you?
Ray: No, we're fine. There's a weird cat. He was outside. Yeah, it's gone now. It had a brown eye and, like, one no eye. It was one of those. It was weird.

Ray: The butter spreads good, too.
Debra: Yeah, I hate it when it's too frozen, you know, 'cause it tears the bread.
Ray: Yeah, although you don't want it too soft, 'cause then you don't know how long it's been out.
Debra: Yeah. No, this butter's perfect.
Ray: It's like the perfect, um... What's the word?
Debra: Temperature.
Ray: No. [pause] Density. The perfect density, yeah. Although, yeah, temperature would have worked. This butter is the perfect temperature-slash-density.
Debra: Yes, it is.
Ray: We need more bread.
Debra: Yeah.

Ray: So what were you saying?
Debra: Oh, nothing. Geoffrey took Michael's hat, and Geoffrey's was at school, so Michael didn't have a hat. But he didn't care 'cause he hates hats anyways.
Ray: Hmm. [long silence as they eat bread] So Geoffrey took Michael's hat?
Debra: Yeah.

Debra: This bread is good.
Ray: You got that right. Although, we probably shouldn't fill up on bread though.
Debra: Yeah, you're right. [long silence]
Ray: The bread is good, though. It is good.The butter's good, too. It's like honey butter or something.
Debra: Yeah.
Ray: Honey, hmm. That reminds me of when Robert accidentally swallowed the bee. You should have seen him. He was like... Yeah. It was funny.
Debra: Yeah. Yeah, I love that story.

Debra: Maybe if we did more stuff together, we could come up with something to say to each other.
Ray: Okay.
Debra: Really?
Ray: Yeah.
Debra: Okay, all right. So what could we do, you know, together?
Ray: Well, you know what's lovely? Va-loo!
Debra: Oh, Ray, come on.
Ray: Come on, what? Hey, maybe you could talk during sex. See, that's something- I've always encouraged that.

Debra: How about we go to the botanical gardens? Huh?
Ray: Ha! Oh. Hmm. Perhaps.
Debra: Could be fun. Come on, I mean, they have trails and nature hikes. Oh, forget it. It's lame.
Ray: Yeah, come on, plants. We got plants in the bathroom. We never talk about them.