Jill: Would you like to stay for dinner?
Mr. Leonard: Oh, I'd love to have a good home-cooked meal.
Tim: Me too. Where we gonna get it?
Lucille: Mr. Leonard...
Mr. Leonard: Please, please call me Art.
Tim: How about a beer, Art?
Mr. Leonard: Mr. Leonard.

Lucille: I don't think I ever told you, Art, how much I appreciate your putting Tim on the right track in school.
Mr. Leonard: Oh, well, hey, you put him on the right path to life.
Lucille: Well, I could only take him so far. Jill took him the distance.
Jill: It was a group effort.
Tim: Hey! Don't I get credit for turning out so well?
All: No.

Lucille: Jill, did you know that every time Tim got into trouble in high school, Art took the time to make a personal call to me?
Mr. Leonard: Oh, I had to call ya. I knew he wasn't giving the notes I sent home.
Lucille: What notes?
Tim: They're... l-l-l was going to give them to you tomorrow.

Jill: I can't believe you have to lean way out of a castle to kiss the Blarney stone? Weren't you scared?
Lucille: Hey, after raising five boys by myself, nothing scares me.
Jill: Well, why do you kiss the Blarney stone, anyway?
Tim: So it'll follow you back to your apartment for a nightcap.
Mr. Leonard: No, pea brain. The Blarney stone gives you the gift of gab. My parents took me there when I was but a wee lad, and I haven't stopped talking since.
Lucille: Oh, I like a man who can hold up his end of the conversation.
Mr. Leonard: Hey, I like a woman who's not afraid to hang upside down from a castle.
Tim: Hey, maybe you should date a bat.

Mr. Leonard: You know, all this talk about blarney is making me thirsty for an Irish coffee. What do you say we head over to that little joint McCauliffe's and get one?
Tim: That's a great idea. We head to an Irish pub.
Mr. Leonard: Who invited you?
Tim: I thought you did. [off Mr. Leonard's look; Irish accent:] I guess I was a wee bit mistaken.

Tim: I can't believe you let her go.
Jill: Let her go? She's a grown woman. She wanted to go.
Tim: She shows up at the house, drops her suitcases off, heads out for a night on the town. What is this, a hotel?
Jill: Well, she did tip the boys.

Tim: She didn't even look at the hot rod.
Jill: So big deal, she'll see it tomorrow.
Tim: It's a big deal to me. How would you feel if your mom came over for a visit and five minutes later, she took off?
Jill: Like I'd won the lottery.

Tim: Hi, Mom.
Lucille: Tim, what are you doing up?
Tim: I'm waiting for Mark. You know... Often times, he stumbles in at 3am, too.

Tim: Look, no one knows more about mothers than you. I wanna bounce something off you.
Al: Well, sure. Hey, bounce away.
Tim: OK. Um... Last night, my mom got kind of mad at me, and she says we don't communicate because I talk on a superficial level.
Al: Oh, I can totally relate.
Tim: So you know what I'm going through?
Al: No, I can totally relate to your mother. Tim, the only real conversation we ever have is when I say something, and you tell me to shut up.
Tim: Shut up.

Wilson: Tim, Al.
Tim: Wilson...
Wilson: I'm really sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying.
Tim: I didn't know that you knew this place.
Wilson: Well, I often come here when The Healthy Vegetable is closed. You know, I love their bean curd.
Al: Oh, yeah. Boy, it's to die for.
Tim: Or to die from. I've had one of those things.