Debra: I don't understand, Marie. You actually thought about who Frank should be with after you're gone?
Marie: Of course. He needs a wife. He can't even boil an egg! I mean, if I go, how's he gonna boil an egg?

Marie: It's too bad.She was perfect. Oh, by the way, the viewing hours are the next three nights at Cannizaro's funeral home.
Ray: Oh is it gonna be an open casket?
Frank: For Rose Caputo? I hope not.
Marie: Have some respect, Frank.
Frank: How about some respect for the truth? She wasn't exactly a looker.
Ray: Ma, look, how could this happen, anyway, okay? What about her husband? Isn't George still alive?
Marie: Yes. But the man is supposed to go first.

Debra: Hello.
Ray: Hello.
Debra: So who would you pick for me if you died first?
Ray: And you say I'm bad at foreplay.

Debra: Come on, Ray. I'm just curious. If you died, who would I get?
Ray: Come on, now you're thinkin' like my mother?
Debra: No. But, you know, you've got to admit in her own weird way it was kind of a loving, care-taking thought.
Ray: Or is it a way to control my father from the grave?

Debra: Come on, Ray. Who would you pick for me?
Ray: No. Why? Why do we have to do this?
Debra: It's just an interesting game. It will show how well you know me, how much you understand me. Just play, just play. Who would you pick to replace you?
Ray: I consider myself irreplaceable.

Debra: Relax. Relax. I was kidding about Margaret. I picked a good person for you.
Ray: Really. You know what? Don't tell me, okay? I've had enough fun.
Debra: Linda.
Ray: Linda? Hmm. Linda.
Debra: See? Didn't I make a good choice? Aren't I thoughtful?
Ray: Yes. Yes, you are.
Debra: Yeah. She's the same age as me, she's smart, she's funny, good values.
Ray: Excellent values.

Debra: All right, you're right. I guess I'm being a little silly. All right, it's okay. So who would you pick for me?
Ray: Oh. Are you even gonna need somebody? I mean, couldn't you just get a cat?

Ray: All right. Ugh... Okay, well, how 'bout if I get Linda, then you get Bernie?
Debra: Bernie?
Ray: Yeah. What? It's perfect.
Debra: Bernie?
Ray: Wait a minute. I know what this is about.
Debra: What?
Ray: He's fat.
Debra: That is not the reason!
Ray: Yes, it is. There's no reason you shouldn't be attracted to Bernie except for all the extra Bernie.
Debra: I don't even think he's that fat.
Ray: Oh, yes he is! Look, he knows it. We make fun of him all the time! We call him "blimpy, Hindenbernie, fat boy." He doesn't care, he's our friend. Our fatty-fat friend.
Debra: Is that why you picked him for me? So I wouldn't be attracted to him?
Ray: You see? You admit it! You are shallow.

Debra: Oh, I almost forgot. Linda called this morning. She had to cancel our date tonight. Bernie was up all night with a terrible stomach flu. He slept on the bathroom floor.
Ray: Stomach flu? That's a lot of flu with that stomach.

Amy: We're so sorry for your loss, Mr. Caputo.
Robert: You know, Mrs. Caputo will always have a special place in my heart. When we were kids, she would always call us over for her home-baked apple pie. And she would always cut me a slice just a little bit bigger than Raymond's. She was a beautiful person.