Tim: Here at Binford, we're not just tool people. Darn it, we're educators!
Al: That's right. Each week Tim teaches you what not to do. [Al & Heidi laugh]

Jill: What is the deal with men and their first cars?
Wilson: Well, Jill, sometimes in our society, a young man's self-image is defined by his first automobile.
Jill: No. You're saying that men define who they are as human beings by four wheels and an engine? Don't you think that's kind of shallow?
Wilson: No, I don't think so.
Jill: No, of course, you don't. You're one of them.
Wilson: [chuckles] No. The first car represents freedom and independence. I tell you, there's nothing more exhilarating for a young man than getting behind the wheel of the car, revving up that engine, racing off to his first Mozart festival. Well, maybe that's just me.

Tim: All the way home in the car, I was trying to figure out a way to blame you. Truth is, it's my fault. I should never have sold that Corvair in the first place.
Jill: You can't blame yourself for selling a car 25 years ago.
Tim: Oh, watch me. So what if it had 130,000 well-earned miles on it? So what if the defroster never worked in the wintertime? So what if the muffler sounded like Al's mom after a whole day of Beano? Huh?
Jill: Honey, you want a nice cup of tea?
Tim: A cup of tea's not gonna cut it!
Jill: Bratwurst?
Tim: You know the sad irony, the cruel irony here? The car crusher? It was a Binford.