Debra: First of all, it's not a book. It's pieces of construction paper.
Ray: You sound a bit close-minded.
Debra: Hey. Eileen, you have no idea what I have to put up with. When I got married, I didn't just get a husband, I got a whole freak show that set up their tent right across the street. And that- That would be fine, if they stayed there. But every day... Every day, they dump a truckload of their insane family dreck into my lap. How would you like to sit through two people in their 60s fighting over who invented the lawn? The lawn! And then the brother, "I live in an apartment. I don't even have a lawn. Raymond has a lawn." But you can't blame him when you see who the mother is. She has this kind of sick hold on the both of them. And the father's about as disgusting a creature as God has ever dropped onto this planet. So no wonder the kid writes stories! I should be writing stories. My life is a Gothic novel! And until you have lived in that house, with all of them in there with you day after day, week after week, year after friggin' year, you are in no position to judge me!

Debra: You know what, Ray? It's a private matter. And my parents, unlike yours, don't feel the need to inflict their lives on everybody else.
Ray: Or, maybe they're a little embarrassed, because as it turns out, they're not so perfect.
Debra: Yeah, or maybe they're just trying to work out their problems before their marriage degenerates into a screaming match like your parents. Arguing about how deep a pan is before it's a pot. "If it's three inches, it's a pot! Everybody knows that, Marie!" "If you can't boil an egg in it, it's not a pot, you jackass!"
Ray: Hey, either way, your perfect little Connecticut "Oh, make sure you cut the crust off my cucumber sandwich"-parents are frauds!
Debra: You listen. If my parents lit an orphanage on fire on Christmas Eve, they wouldn't be as bad as your parents!

Amy: I didn't mean to argue. It's thank-you notes. It's so stupid.
Debra: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. Look at me. You were great. Do you hear me? You can't let her get away with anything.
Amy: But she's so upset. I don't want a bad relationship with her. I should go apologize.
Debra: No, no, no, no, no. Hey, listen, that is exactly what she is waiting for, for you to go over there and say you'll write those thank-you notes. You have got to be strong. She is testing you. Trust me, what she just pulled here, that's her big weapon: the guilt bomb. And it doesn't help that all the men in her family are scared to death of her. Whenever she comes up against somebody with a backbone who might actually confront her, she's completely threatened and she gets her claws out. And so she has been allowed to rule this way, unopposed, for decades. Listen, Amy I have been waiting for you. This is a critical time. Even though this is a tough regime to topple, with you in the family, now we have a shot... you and me together, to end all the suffering. Do you hear me? We can do it!

Brick: Hey, Mom. Can I interest you in a decorative crock-pot cozy? Now you can leave your crock-pot out where everyone can see and save yourself unwanted embarrassment. It's for the women's club. These glasses are the prize for being their top seller.
Frankie: Let me guess. You're using the cozy money to pay off the peppermint-bark people.
Brick: Exactly.
Frankie: Brick, you're running a Ponzi scheme.
Brick: A Ponzi-what, now?
Frankie: You're using money you don't have to pay off the debt you had before, and now you got to go into even more debt to pay off this debt. It's an endless cycle. You're never gonna catch up.
Brick: Isn't that what you guys do with your credit cards?
Frankie: Well, yeah, but we're gonna die before they catch us.

Frankie: All I asked was for you to clean the bathroom! How hard is that?
Brick: Well, if you want to do it properly, you have to get to the root of the problem.
Frankie: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Brick. We are not "root of the problem" people. The surface is where we live. You start chipping away and digging down to the root of everything, the whole place falls apart. The filth and grime is what's holding everything together. You want to see a video of how we fix things? We wipe, we slide, we shove, we close. If a drawer is too full to open, move on to the next one. Never open it again.

Mike: She just keeps going. Where does she get that from?
Frankie: From me. I never give up.
Mike: You give up all the time. You gave up this morning.
Frankie: You're right. As I was saying that sentence, I almost gave up and stopped talking.