Beverly: Can't you just get past it? He's your family.
Coach Mellor: You sound like Mama, God rest her soul.
Beverly: You mean..?
Coach Mellor: She died doing what she loved, though. Frog squats.
Beverly: Coach, does your brother have any idea what he's done to you?
Coach Mellor: That's what Mama asked me, right before she did that last ill-advised rep that sent her to the final cool-down in the sky. Oh, Mama, why'd you have to crush it so hard?

Coach Mellor: All right, that's it! You're outta here! [whistle blows]
Coach Nick: Did you just blow your whistle at me?
Coach Mellor: Yeah, I did! And according to the laws of coaching, that means you got to take a lap!
Coach Nick: No. You take the lap! [whistle blows]
Coach Mellor: How dare you blow your whistle at me in my gymnatorium?! You have no right!
Coach Nick: But I do. This is the Blare-X 2000, the Champagne of whistles, given only to college coaches. So, my whistle wins.
Coach Mellor: Anybody can get a whistle. What really matters is what's in here, and you and I both know I always give 110%.
Coach Nick: And everyone knows I give 111.
Coach Mellor: That's not possible! Everybody knows that 110% is the maximum!

Adam: But this wasn't my fault. I was targeted in gym class.
Beverly: Targeted?! Who targeted my smooshy-tushed baby boy?
Barry: 'Twas I.
Beverly: Barry, what have I told you about picking on poor Adam?
Adult Adam: [v.o.] Then came the Mom guilt trip unique to brothers everywhere.
Beverly: You realize that one day, I'll be gone, and the only thing you'll have is each other.

Pops: Okay, Mur. What's your angle?
Murray: No angle. I believe in young love.
Pops: No, you don't.
Murray: Of course I don't! Do you know what it means to have the one lonely freshman girl who pines for her boyfriend back home?
Pops: Oy, I remember that girl, Ethel Kominski. She was the worst.
Murray: Yeah! Now Erica's the worst. Instead of partying with frat boys, she's on the phone every night with some yutz a thousand miles away.
Pops: But that's horrible. What about Erica going out and having fun and making mistakes and living life?
Murray: I thought about that. And then I thought, "Nah. I'm good."

Barry: After seeing Coach and Coach fight like little children, I realized I don't want that to be us when we get old.
Adam: It won't be.
Barry: How can you be so sure?
Adam: 'Cause even though you give me dead arms and call me a nerd and flush the toilet when I'm in the shower, you really are my best friend.
Barry: Same here, nerd.

Coach Mellor: All right. Welcome to third-period gym, freshmen through seniors. Now, to any of you younger, spindly-armed students worried about the insane disparity of height and weight in this class, I say, what are ya gonna do?
Barry: Suggestion, Coach. Perhaps the younger, dorkier students should wear shin guards and helmets, because I will bring the thunder.
Adam: Oh, balls. You're in this class?
Coach Mellor: Looks like we got ourselves a classic brother versus brother showdown.
Adam: No, we don't.
Barry: You know it.
Coach Mellor: This is why I snap on these blue shorts every day.

Pops: Aaaah! Where are your glasses, kiddo? Your eye's all fakakte.
Adam: Broke in gym class. Now we all got to live with the lazy eye.
Murray: What's that? Are you talking to me?
Adam: No, I was talking to Pops.
Murray: Then why are you looking at me?
Adam: I didn't! This is me looking at you.
Murray: No, now you're looking at Mrs. Butterworth.
Adam: I am not!
Murray: You're staring right at her!
Pops: Now one eye's staring at me. I don't know what to do.
Murray: Bevy, your son's wonky eye is ruining breakfast.

Beverly: Adam, put your glasses on.
Murray: Oh! You broke them again?! No more glasses! Those things cost a fortune. From now on, you're gonna wear an eyepatch, like a regular kid.

Adam: Oh, pass. He sucks.
Barry: I suck? Even your wandering eye hates you and wants to leave your head.

Coach Mellor: Okay, party people! The rubber balls are wet and molded over, so today, we will be playing dodgeball with lady softballs. They're large, they're hard, and they will leave a mark.