Fred: The stroke may have scrambled some of Becky's memories.
Mitchell: So she doesn't remember me coming out?
Fred: Correct. And now presumes you're straight. That part I can't explain.
Phil: [quietly] Have you tried popping her on the noggin?
Jay: She's not a jukebox, Fonzie.
Gloria: And besides, it doesn't work. It only made my uncle worse. He never woke up.

Haley: Oh, gosh, I guess your name must still be in my phone as my emergency contact. I use boyfriends to avoid lectures from my parents. I don't want to wake up in a Tijuana prison and them be all like, "You're grounded."

Haley: Andy, um, I have to tell you something. And I'm really, really sorry, but I'm seeing someone.
Andy: Really?
Haley: Yeah.
Andy: Yes! Whoo-hoo! Oh, thank goodness. Me, too. I just didn't know how to tell you, especially if you were dying. She's a Laker girl.
Haley: Oh, wow. A cheerleader. Nice.
Andy: No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Josephine scrapes barnacles off boats in the Great Salt Lake. We call them Laker girls. But they are kind of sex symbols in Utah.

Phil: Oh, look at you all dressed up. Coming with us to watch Uncle Mitchell sweat?
Haley: No, Arvin's dad is in from London, and he wants me to meet him.
Claire: Hang on. You're not hungover. Hair's conservative, no cleavage. Oh, my God. You're trying to make a good impression. You're in love!
Haley: Shut up. I am not.
Claire: Ohh, I don't know. I see how hard you work at this relationship. You woke up early to watch soccer and you called it football.
Haley: Oh, just calm down. It's been three months, and everyone knows Liverpool is having a cracking good year.

Claire: Still, meeting a parent is a major relationship milestone.
Phil: Claire, you're getting my hopes up, and I still haven't recovered from Andy. And don't even get me started on Dylan. I get nostalgic every time I see someone sleeping in their car.

Jay: I guess I'm proudest of these two little guys here. This is the Spacemaster 500, and this is the Xanadu newest additions to the Pritchett's Closets family.
Aunt Becky: What's Pritchett's Closets?
Jay: This damn disease doesn't care what it destroys.

Jay: Are you comfortable? Can I help you with anything that's not disgusting?
Aunt Becky: I'm fine. But I was wondering if, this summer, I could borrow your fishing cabin.
Jay: My fishing cabin?
[aside to camera:]
Jay: My dad had a fishing cabin that he promised would go to me, but the double-crossing bastard left it to my sister Becky, who's also a double-crosser. Now that her memory is Swiss cheese, I can steal my cabin back. Finally, the good guy wins.

Mrs. Fennerman: Haley, I know your job is top secret, but I'm so fascinated by nanotechnology self-replicating robots and such. I'd love to hear your insight into grey goo.
Haley: Ooh, I can answer that. It's my favorite vodka.
Mrs. Fennerman: Hmm?
Haley: Enough about me. Um, I love your blazer. Do you have a corgi like the queen? Crazy times in London. Am I right? I hear that your, um, bridge is falling down, [weakly] falling down.

Haley: Andy? You- You came all the way from Utah?
Andy: Oh, no. I was in town for a self-help seminar "How To Be In The Right Place at the Right Time." Holy cow. It's working.

Andy: So, who is the lucky guy?
Haley: Well, it's a bit of a mess right now, but, um, he is a professor and an astrophysicist. He's a a legit genius.
Dylan: Haley! I came as soon as I heard. Actually, that's not true. I stopped for tacos.
Haley: Not him.