Frank: Hey, I didn't know you needed people to talk to. Any time you need support, I'm here for you, dumb-ass.

Debra: Well, I hope everybody likes pizza pockets.
Marie: Oh. Microwaved appetizers. I should've thought of that before I started tomorrow's Easter dinner from scratch.

Amy: Oh, Robert, your dad's so funny.
Robert: Yeah. Always with the jokes. Okay. Who else would like to talk?

Pat: If it's all right, Peter said he'd be joining us tomorrow.
Ray: Good. Peter's coming. I had my fingers crossed.

Amy: Come on, Robert, it's late.
Ray: Yeah, go home. You didn't get a piece in all night anyway.
Robert: I got it. I got it!
Ray: It- It doesn't fit, okay? Don't force it.
Robert: Leave me alone.
Ray: It doesn't fit!
Robert: It fits! I'm telling you it fits! [hammers the piece with his fist] See? Perfect.
Ray: What are you doin'? You got spit all over here now.

Ray: You know, I'm thinking of writing a book.
Pat: You are?
Ray: Yeah. I tried writing books before, but I never finished them. Same as reading them, you know? But, um this one I'm workin' on, it's about Mickey Mantle and his relationship with Billy Martin and Whitey Ford. Do you know those guys?
Pat: I've heard of Mickey. I don't know Billy or Whitey.
Ray: They were these great players, and they all hung out together. I don't know. It's probably stupid.
Pat: I don't think it's stupid at all.

Ray: What does Debra think? She must be very excited.
Ray: I haven't even told Debra.
Pat: No?
Ray: Nah. She doesn't even read my column.
Pat: Oh, she must.
Ray: Yeah, not so much anymore. She used to when we were dating and she was all "wooing" me.
Pat: Well, now she's probably busy taking care of the house and the children and you.
Ray: Yeah. I guess.

Ray: I've got to tell you, you're a very perceptive person. And you like sports. Maybe you should talk to my mom.
Pat: Well, I'm sure she loves your writing.
Ray: Oh, she's another one. She still hasn't got over the fact that I didn't become a poet or an opera writer or her biographer.
Pat: Well, your mother is a strong personality, but she has a good heart. I think, in many ways, she's still just a little girl who's looking for acceptance and love.
Ray: I never thought of her like that. I've always just thought of her as "Mom!"
Pat: Well, I'm a mom to Amy and Peter.
Ray: No, I don't think so. You can't even do this. You're too nice.
Pat: Aw, thanks, Ray. I think you're nice too.

Debra: So what did you and Pat talk about for three hours?
Ray: Nothing. You know, just family, parents, kids, work. This book idea. Turns out she's a big fan of mine, goes to the library to read my column.
Debra: What book idea?
Ray: Oh, yeah. Just- I'm thinking about writing a book.
Debra: You are? You didn't tell me that.
Ray: Yeah well, I didn't want to bother you.
Debra: Bother me? I'm your wife! I think if you have big news like you're gonna write a book, you'd tell me first. You don't go telling some other woman just because she goes to the library for you.
Ray: First of all, she's not some other woman. She's Mrs. MacDougall, all right? And she doesn't just go to the library, she walks there, sometimes through a foot of snow.

Debra: All right. So tell me about your book idea.
Ray: Now? It's 2:00 in the morning.
Debra: Oh, but it's not too late to talk to your new best pal, Pat MacDougall!
Ray: Come on, Debra. What?
Debra: Fine, fine. I'm happy for both of you.
Ray: Hmm. Jealous.