Lois: Francis, if it isn't right in the bedroom, it isn't going to be right anywhere else.
Francis: What?
Lois: When I say "the bedroom," I mean sex.
Francis: Yeah, I got it.
Lois: Francis, marriage isn't mental. It isn't even really about feelings. When you get right down to it, it's a sloppy, sweaty physical act. Now, your father may have flaws, he may not make a lot of money, but he has never been other than a rigorous and challenging lover.
Francis: Mom.
Lois: Can I be frank with you?
Francis: No!
Lois: Do you remember sometimes in the morning I'd forget to put juice in your lunchbox? I was lucky I could remember my own name.
Francis: Uh-huh.
Lois: Because, when your father gets down to work, and is intimate with me, he is like a skilled general invading a country. He doesn't just launch an assault by sea, he uses paratroopers and columns of infantry. And even secret agents. [Francis throws up] Honey, good for you. Get it all out. We can talk more later.

Malcolm: Remember when I was in fifth grade and I set the couch on fire? How'd you know it was me? I planted all that evidence, I had Stevie as an alibi. Even Dad thought it was Reese.
Lois: Honestly? I had no idea. You were the first person I saw when I started yelling, and you just crumbled.
Malcolm: You were bluffing, but you seemed so sure.
Lois: Of course, I seemed sure. With you boys, if I showed the slightest weakness or hesitation, the whole thing falls apart. Half the time, I'm just going on blind instinct.
Malcolm: After all these years, five kids, keeping up that act. That's gotta be exhausting.
Lois: Tell me about it. Plenty of days I come home tired from work. The last thing I wanna do is be Lois.
Malcolm: I guess I do the same thing. Sometimes when I come home from school, I don't feel like arguing with you. But it's like that's my job.
Lois: It's funny, isn't it?
Malcolm: I bet half the time if we knew what the other one was really thinking, we'd just burst out laughing.
Lois: We probably would.

Malcolm: Bye, Mom. Say hi to Francis.
Lois: Oh, wait, wait, all right. You've got your food money. You've got your emergency numbers. We'll be home Sunday night around 9:00. But before I forget. [picks up vase] This is the one thing left in this house that I care about. I don't want to spend the next two days worrying about "How will they break it, where will they hide the pieces, how will they lie to me about it when I come home." So... [drops vase on floor] There. Now I can relax.

Lois: I need to talk to you.
Reese: Not now.
Lois: Please, I need to tell you something. I've been a terrible mother.
Reese: It's okay, Mom. I've known that for a long time.
Lois: No, you don't understand. When those girls humiliated you, instead of trying to comfort you and help you deal with your feelings, I just got caught up in my own anger and went on a rampage.
Reese: What?
Lois: All I was worried about was making them pay, and they did. But what disturbs me is how much I enjoyed crushing those three girls and watching them suffer. I tapped into some dark, ugly place inside of me. I was acting like... you. [scoffs] Oh, God, who am I kidding? I wasn't acting like you. I am you. [sobs] There's this horrible thing that's part of us that makes it seem okay to do really scary stuff. I must have gotten it from Grandma, and I passed it on to you, sweetie. And all I can say is I'm sorry. I'm deeply, deeply sorry.

Lois: Will you stop feeling sorry for yourself, there must be a hundreds of pictures of you in here. [combs through photographs] Well, here is poor, neglected Dewey having great time at SeaWorld.
Dewey: It's so blurry, you can't even tell that's me.
Hal: Well, you can't prove it's not.
Lois: Dewey, at least we got you a memory book. That's more than we've done for Jamie.
Dewey: And I suppose that makes you feel pretty good about yourselves.
Lois: You want to know the truth? You were the fourth child. By the time you came along, this house was in a state of complete chaos. The only sleep I got was when I'd nod off on the drive to work. So forgive us if we didn't get a chance to take every picture, every video, or get you every vaccination.
Dewey: I wasn't vaccinated?!
Lois: Tell you what, Dewey. You get whooping cough, I promise I'll take a ton of pictures.

Malcolm: Mom, what are you doing here?
Lois: I'm here to pick up some things for Reese. You know, so he can catch up on his school work.
Malcolm: I hope you rented a truck.
Lois: You know what? Everyone seems very amused by your brother's pain. Well, I think people better start thinking twice.
[When Diane opens her locker door, a large number of severed and defaced doll heads spill out]
Diane: Oh, my God! Who did this? [sobs] Moppet?! Baby?! [wails] No! No!
Malcolm: It's you! [Lois has disappeared]

Lois: [opens door] Yes. Can I help you?
Craig: Oh. My good- Um, hi. Hel- Hello. I'm. I'm Caroline Miller from Malcolm's school. I... sent you some letters and left some messages on your answering machine.
Lois: Okay, fine. You caught me. What do you want?
Caroline: Um... Well, it's been three weeks and you haven't responded and it's really important... I mean, well, for Malcolm's sake that the parents be as involved in...
Lois: So, what, you're here to insult my parenting skills?
Caroline: No. I'm sure you're a terrific parent. [boys scream] I'm here because I think that there is a tremendous opportunity for... Could you, you know, maybe put a top on?
Lois: They're just boobs, lady. You see them in the mirror every morning. And I'm sure yours are a lot nicer than mine.

Malcolm: I don't want to go to a special class. People think I'm weird enough already.
Lois: I know.
Malcolm: I like where I am. I want to stay.
Lois: Sweetie, life does not give you a lot of chances to move up even if you deserve it. Look at your dad and me. Malcolm, I'm proud of you. You boys are so lucky. You have so many gifts that other kids don't have. And I don't just mean Stevie Kenarban, either. I mean, look at those Parker boys across the street. They may be healthy, but honest to God those are the ugliest little boys ever born. They look like boiled beets, don't you think? And those Henderson kids? That electrocuted their dog when they were trying to get free cable. How smart can they be? Just remember... any kid who makes fun of you is a creepy little loser who'll end up working in a car wash.
Malcolm: [to camera] This shouldn't make me feel better, but it does.
Lois: You'll be all right, sweetie. If you don't make a big deal out of this, nobody else will either.

Hal: Honey. We're late. We better hit the road.
Lois: Fine. I'll shave my legs in the car. Okay. I've marked the liquor bottles, and we can taste when they're watered down. I've locked out the smut channel on the TV, counted your father's cigars.
[cut to Lois in the passenger seat of the car as Hal studies a map:]
Lois: I've checked the odometer on the car and the balance on the credit cards. We love you, have a good time. And just remember, Dewey will tell us everything you did while we're gone.
Hal: Uh, what your mother said, boys. [removes cigar from pocket] Minus one.
[After Hal drives off, a moment later the brakes squeak and the car reverses:]
Lois: Don't even think about it!
Malcolm: Think about what?
Francis: She's bluffing.

Malcolm: Mom, I can't stop feeling bad about what I did to Kevin. I feel like I have a monster inside of me.
Lois: Oh, for crying out loud, Malcolm, that's no monster. That's your conscience. You should be thankful God gave you one.
Malcolm: Yeah. It feels great.
Lois: I'm serious. It's a gift. And you know what most people do with theirs? They keep them in the closet all year and bring them out only when they think he's coming to visit. You're not like that. Good for you.
Malcolm: But I can't stop thinking about it. [Lois pokes Malcolm's wound] Ow!
Lois: Were you thinking about it just then?
Malcolm: No!
Lois: See? I promise you will feel bad about Kevin only as long as you're supposed to. Now, go to bed. You're a nice boy, Malcolm, and I'll kick the conniption out of anybody who says you aren't. Including that little voice in your head.