Will: Hilary. Listen. That is not a mole or an Adam's apple that you're seeing. It's Trevor.
Hilary: You're telling me that Trevor was reincarnated in Scott's throat?
Will: No, look, Hil, what I'm trying to say is that you miss Trevor so much something inside of you won't let go of him. If you walk out on Scott now, this could haunt you for the rest of your life.
Hilary: What do you mean?
Will: Well... You might never go out again. You'll become one of them crazy old women who walk around all day long with a shower cap on, with an old raggedy halter-top that say "Jam." And then you gonna start wearing rhinestone gauchos. And then, just for no reason, you'll say: "Dum-dum-diday" Then you'll be eating neckbone sandwiches all the time. And screaming at your little imaginary dog, Brutus. And you know what the worst part is?
Hilary: What?
Will: The only man you're gonna be able to get is some fool named Grady, who be smelling like menthol all the time and falling asleep in his soup.
Hilary: Oh, God, I hate soup.
Will: Then you march through those curtains and you look his throat in the face!

Vivian: Philip, the important thing is that you and your son spent quality time together. You should be proud of what you built.
Geoffrey: Even if it is a deathtrap.
Philip: You are just jealous because you don't have son like Carlton to build something with.
Geoffrey: Yes, sir, that must be it. Look! It's a bird. It's a plane. It's Master Nicky.

Vivian: Here, darling. Philip, I know what's gonna happen. Carlton's gonna start in on your nerves and you're gonna end up at his throat.
Philip: Oh, nonsense. This is a perfect time for a father and son to spend some quality time together. Geoffrey, go fetch my tools.
Geoffrey: You mean your knife and fork?