Ray: I was just listening to the radio. Don't you ever sit there and wait for the song to end?
Debra: Oh, no. Not with that look on my face, I don't. I mean, Ray. Don't you think it's a little weird that a married father of three can't give up his "lucky" car?
Ray: Come on, it's like a high school yearbook. You still have your high school yearbook.
Debra: I didn't sleep with someone on my high school yearbook.
Ray: Of course not. It's too small. You have to open it.
Debra: Ray.
Ray: Come on. It's just a memory. What matters is now, right? And sex means so much more now.
Debra: Oh, right.
Ray: Sure, it does. 'Cause it's so rare. No, because it's you. You know what? I'm gonna get rid of the car.

Debra: You really gonna get rid of that car?
Ray: You're my wife. I like you. So, yeah. I'm gonna get rid of the car.
Debra: Hey, you know what? Before you do why don't we make our own memory in it?
Ray: What do you mean?
Debra: I'll be in the car.
Ray: [to himself] Oh, I need gum.