Marty: Seems like ever since we had the babies all we do is fight.
Tim: Good shot. Come on, it's only been six months. Give it a chance. When Brad was first born, I had to make a lot of adjustments. I had to wait in line for Jill to give me a bath.
Marty: I'm talking, when I get home, I don't even get a "Hello."
Tim: I didn't care if she said hello, I just wanted my bath.

Jill: Well, did you try and talk him out of it?
Tim: Of course I tried to talk him out of it. Told him when you have a family you don't bail out and run away.
Jill: That was good. That was good.
Tim: You just admit your life is over and take it like a man.
Jill: "Your life is over"?
Tim: Yeah... The bad part of it's over. The good part of it is just beginning.

Tim: Hey, Wilson. What are you doing?
Wilson: Tim, I'm pondering my Bonseki.
Tim: Isn't it funny how guys never get tired of doing that?
Wilson: No, no, no, no, no, Tim. A Bonseki is a miniature Japanese rock garden.
Tim: Wow. Let me see.
Wilson: Don't touch it. You see, Tim, the Zen Buddhists believe that by contemplating this tiny, symbolic landscape one can achieve greater understanding.

Tim: Maybe it'll help me understand what's wrong with my brother. We had a fight and I haven't seen him since.
Wilson: Really? I thought you two got along rather well.
Tim: Oh, we usually do. When my dad died, he was only one, I was 11. Mom went back to work so I took care of him a lot.
Wilson: Hm. That's a lot of responsibility.
Tim: Yeah. It was a lot of good times, too. I taught him how to do all sorts of stuff - hawk a loogie, shoot a spit wad. Boy, no one teaches spitwad shooting better than me.
Wilson: Well, I'm aware of that. Your boys have launched a few wet ones over my way.
Tim: Taught him how to ride his bike, drive his first car.
Wilson: So what you're saying is you were part father, part brother.
Tim: Yeah. Kinda like a "frother."

Wilson: You know, Tim, the Roman orator Appius Claudius Caecus once said that every man is the architect of his own fortune. Now, Marty is a man. He's not a boy anymore.
Tim: When he was a kid, he'd listen to me anytime I wanted. All I had to do was tie him to a tree and pour root beer on his pointed little head.
Wilson: Tim, I think what your brother needs is for you to be a brother and a friend.
Tim: Instead of a "frother," more of a "briend."
Wilson: In a manner of speaking.
Tim: Night, Wilson.
Wilson: Sayonara, Tim.
Tim: Uh, marinara to you, too.

Tim: Marty, stick around.
Marty: Why? You want to rip into me some more?
Tim: Look, I'm sorry I did that at the bar, OK?
Marty: No, Tim, you made it real clear how you feel.
Tim: Well, I've had time to think about it. I think we should talk, all right? Stick around, have something to drink? What do you want?
Marty: Anything but root beer.
Tim: I guess we're past me tying you up to Mrs. Campbell's tree and pouring root beer on your head, huh? It's like the Roman guy Apricot said: "if you roam around with architects, buy rocks, put 'em in the sand, and you'll understand."
Marty: Let me think about that.

Marty: You're telling me things are gonna get better, right?
Tim: There's no guarantees, I'm just saying things got better for Jill and l.
Marty: But you're telling me I shouldn't leave.
Tim: Marty, I'm not gonna tell you that. I can't do this. You gotta make your own decision here.
Marty: I can't imagine my life without Nancy.
Tim: I can't imagine any other woman havin' ya.
Marty: I sure hate the idea of leaving the kids. I mean, when they're not puking and pooping, they're really cute.
Tim: They do grow out of that, you know. Help me fix the distributor on the hot rod, will you?
Marty: I'm just looking forward to the day when I can pick up one of the kids and nothing gooey shoots out at me.

Mark: What happened?
Tim: I'm trying to dry out the carpet pad.
Mark: How'd it get wet?
Tim: I made a little hole.
Mark: Where?
Tim: In a big water pipe.
Mark: Holy cow! What happened?
Tim: Well, I ran into a little snag trying to run the wiring back in through here. I think I fixed the water pipe. I think I can get the floor fixed before your mom gets home.
Jill: [o.s.] Hello! I'm home!
Tim: Or maybe not.

Tim: Where are you going?
Jill: Well, I have to finish this paper by this Friday. If I don't get it done by then, I'm gonna be digging myself into a big hole.
Tim: So you could understand how that sort of thing might happen?
Jill: Tim, there's a giant hole in the floor.
Tim: Oh, that's not a giant hole. The Grand Canyon would be a big hole. That...
Jill: You told me the hole was gonna be this big.
Tim: Well, it is this big. I started right here, but I had to move the water pipes over just to get the... [continues talking]
Jill: The same old story every time. You come up with some idiotic idea, I say no, you make a pathetic little face, then I give in, and before I know it, you're pulling up the floor.
Tim: ...I pull up the floor.

Tim: Honey.
Jill: [o.s.] I'm not talking to you.
Tim: Little argument.
Marty: Uh, the hole?
Tim: The hole, yeah. Jill, my brother's here.
Jill: [o.s.] Danny?
Tim: No, the one that doesn't owe me money.
Jill: [o.s.] Marty!