Adam: Why am I helping them move? My arms are built for Nintendo, not whatever you call this.
Beverly: Manual labor?

Adult Adam: [v.o.] It was March 22, 1980-something, and Barry and Joanne had finally found a place to move into, Pop-Pop's old apartment.
Pop-Pop: Bathroom, uh, room... um, stove you could burn your trash on. And here's the dying room.
Joanne: Do you mean the dining room?
Pop-Pop: Oh, sure. That's probably what you guys will use it for.
Barry: This place is awesome. There are support bars in the shower, so I can do my tricep dips while I wash off the sweat.
Joanne: Yeah, it certainly has your personality, Pop-Pop.
Pop-Pop: Uh, Barry, who's this broad you're shacking up with, again?
Joanne: I'm Joanne. I've been dating your grandson for over a year now. [chuckles] I gave you my bone marrow.

Barry: Hey, I sense an un-chillness in the air, when I, in fact, demand a fully formed chillness.
Joanne: Mm. It's those two, babe. They did this to the air.
Erica: Why are you guys even here?
Barry: We realized that when you move into your own place, your parents don't buy food for you anymore. So, we're eliminating the middle man and stocking up.
Geoff: Is the middle man the supermarket, where you'd buy your own food?
Barry: Bingo! It's the only downside about our new place. It's been like a second honeymoon for us.
Erica: You guys aren't married.
Barry: Then a first honeymoon.
Erica: You guys aren't married.

Joanne: Barry, don't flaunt the fact that our relationship has gone to a new level in their faces.
Barry: It really has.
Joanne: Mm-hmm.
Barry: I mean, that apartment is like a cocoon tucked away from all the disturbances of this house to make space for our passion. Or, as The B-52s would call it, a love shack.
Geoff: And from now on, not just that song, but all music is ruined forever.
Barry: Don't deny something that's perfectly natural, Geoff. Every night and every day, your sister and I stuff ourselves at the buffet of love.
Erica: [gags] Just let the toast burn. Let the whole place burn. We can't be here any longer.

Beverly: Now, you read the sample pages from Pop-Pop's book. What did you think about them?
Adam: They were okay.
Beverly: Okay or good?
Adam: I guess he showed some promise.
Beverly: Then that's what you seize on. You have to BEV.
Adam: BEV?
Beverly: You Build their confidence, Enable their self-delusions, and Value them over every other person on earth.

Beverly: Now, you said Pop-Pop's writing showed some promise. Instead, why not say he's the greatest imagineer the world has ever seen?
Adam: But that isn't true.
Beverly: Well, who cares about true? You're helping someone get over their fear. Now, pretend I'm Pop-Pop. Go.
Adam: Um, Pop-Pop, the beginning of this book was fun.
Beverly: Wrong! It wasn't fun. It was the greatest literary thrill ride the world has ever seen.
Adam: Seems a bit over the top.
Beverly: Now, what does Pop-Pop love even more than science fiction?
Adam: Sticking it to people?
Beverly: Which brings us to "V," value him over other people. "Pop-Pop, your writing isn't just good, it makes Hemingway look like an illiterate boob."

Adam: You're saying lie to him about how great he is in order to create a false state of confidence, like you do with Barry.
Beverly: Um, yeah, yeah, like I do with Barry and no other child.
Adam: Right.
Beverly: Just Barry.
Adam: Just Barry.
Beverly: Just Barry.
Adam: It's weird how you keep saying Barry.
Beverly: Only Barry.

Erica: Okay, three minutes. Lock Muriel in the bathroom and let's get going, Geoff.
Geoff: No. You know I can't perform when you put a clock on me. Remember that time at the Wawa, when I was supposed to pick a candy bar because they were closing, and I left with a Chunky with raisins? Who's that for?

Pop-Pop: All right, all right. You want to dig in, huh? Your thing about this guy that works in the dungaree shop is idiotic! The only thing he thinks about is folding jeans.
Matt: It's a metaphor for control in a chaotic universe.
Pop-Pop: And your story about this middle-aged broad that flirts with the young man in your writers' group and works at the Gap is clearly about you and this one.
Matt: I wondered why Brad Mattley sounded so familiar.
Essie Karp: No.

Beverly: Okay, well, you're not the only one because, Adam, I occasionally lied to you, too.
Adam: Lied to me? About what?
Beverly: Sweetheart, I've been telling you you are a film-making genius since you were eight years old. Did it ever occur to you I might be stretching the truth a little bit?
Adam: What are you talking about? I'm a prodigy. Every one of your friends said so through gritted smiles.
Beverly: Let's be honest. Everything you did couldn't have been the home run I said it was.
Adam: Are you telling me I'm not a genius whose words have been translated into 400 different languages?
Beverly: Let me put this in Spanish. No.
Adam: So, was a highway not named in my honor?
Beverly: That's just Interstate 95.
Adam: Was my work not put on the space shuttle and sent to the great beyond so other civilizations could appreciate it?
Beverly: It's in that drawer.
Adam: My whole life is a lie.