Jill: Wilson, I've been thinking about this. Do you think that subconsciously I left the hot rod out in the snow to get back at Tim for dropping that two-ton beam on my station wagon?
Wilson: Well, Jill, that's a very interesting theory, but I'm sure that your leaving the car out was just an accident.
Jill: Yeah. But you know what Freud says about that, "There are no accidents."
Wilson: Well, obviously Freud never saw Tool Time.

Jill: Get in. See if it meets your approval.
Tim: Jill, this is the greatest gift you've ever given me.
Jill: I gave you three children.
Tim: Yeah, but none of them came out this clean.

Jill: How could I have done something so stupid?
Brad: They say when two people have been married for a long time they start acting like each other.
Jill: You're not helping, Brad.

Tim: I've worked on this car for three years. And you send it outside like some stray cat. This is like a member of the family to me.
Jill: You wait a minute. You just wait a minute. Every single thing I have ever owned, you have managed to puncture, singe, pulverize, crack, crush, melt or explode, and every single time I have managed to come up with the compassion to forgive you. But this one time this happens, do you have the same compassion to forgive me? No! Thank you so much.
Tim: Honey, l... [Jill slams the door] Wait a minute. You are really good. You screw up and I'm getting yelled at. You are really, really good.

Tim: My hot rod!
Randy: You always said you wanted a snowmobile.

Jill: Hey, if you had moved the hot rod out of the garage as I asked you to, then... then... you would've remembered to put the cover on.
Tim: This is unbelievable. Did I blame you when I dropped the beam on your car?
Jill: Yes, you did.
Tim: And remember how lame that was?
Jill: Yes, I do.

Jill: Well, maybe I was personifying the hot rod as a rival for Tim's love, then transferring my feelings of jealousy to it.
Wilson: Well, Jill...
Jill: Or it could just be about the balance of power in a relationship. You know, I have always had a problem subjugating my ego to the strong-willed male - i.e. my dad. You know, it just taps right into my preadolescent, deep-seated feelings of rejection.
Wilson: You know, Jill, the psychological knowledge you're acquiring at college can give you some very powerful insights.
Jill: You're telling me.
Wilson: On the other hand, a little knowledge and an active imagination can make a person cuckoo.

Jill: Guys, when it's snowing you're supposed to come in through the garage, not track it all over the house. When did it start snowing?
Brad: A few hours ago. Mom, didn't you notice the blizzard?
Jill: No. I was inside painting all day while the rest of my family was out having fun.
Brad: Where's the hot rod?
Jill: The hot rod.
Brad: Yeah. You know, the thing Dad kisses every night before he goes to bed.
Jill: Oh, my God! I left it outside.
Randy: Well, you covered it, right?
Jill: Wrong. [opens the garage door]
Randy: It's covered now.

Tim: You did this?
Jill: Honey. Honey, it was just an accident. You know, it wasn't snowing when I moved it outside.
Tim: You did this? Look at all the snow in here. The interior's wrecked. The carpet's all wet. Look, my gauges are all fogged up.
Jill: Well, couldn't you just take them out and dry them off and then put 'em back together? You love to take things apart and put 'em back together.
Tim: How'd this happen?
Jill: Well, honey, I've been under a lot of pressure lately, you know. I've had the pageant and Christmas shopping and school and my parents coming next week.
Tim: There's no excuse for this. Why don't you just admit you screwed up?
Jill: Well! I think that you could be a little bit more understanding. I mean, it's not like this was my fault.
Tim: Whose fault was this?
Jill: Yours.
Tim: Hello?!

Jill: Tim... I've been thinking and maybe you're right. Maybe I have a problem admitting I'm wrong. You know, I think that it has to do with my relationship with my mother.
Tim: No, no, no. Please, not this "my mother made me screw up" again.
Al: You know, I have a lot of issues with my mother.
Tim: Here we go.
Jill: You see, to my mother an apology was like an admission of guilt, which gave her the right to give me a nine-hour lecture on what a bad person I was.
Tim: That's fascinating, Jill, it really is. But I'm not your mom. I thought you'd pick up on that since I stopped wearing my hair in a beehive.
Jill: Tim, the mother-child relationship has all these complexities that affect all aspects of your life.
Al: Boy, is that true. No matter how hard you fight against it, you always are your mother's child.
Tim: Hey, I got a great idea. Let's all get together tomorrow night and watch Terms of Endearment.