Murray: You ate all the fiddle! It's all faddle now, you moron.

Erica: Brenda said she could get me a job with her at Gimbels, okay? I'll finally have my own money. Plus, I get a big employee discount.
Beverly: Well, who am I to stand in your way? That settles it. You're getting a discount. Job. You're getting a job. I'm just so happy for us. You. I'm happy for all of us. Oh, discount.

Murray: Look, Bevy, I know you're trying to make a point here, but it's been three days. I had to wear my tuxedo shirt to work! Yes, I did look like Roger Moore, but don't you think it's time you called off this fight?

Erica: Mom, you're not listening.
Beverly: And you're not making with the beep-bop-boop.

Murray: Here's all I know about fashion. I like blue. That's it.

Erica: Then let me explain how it works. You have to spend money to look nice.
Murray: Or you could grab some of the old dresses in your closet, cut 'em up, and make a new one in the current style. Like, um, that movie with, uh, the girl with the face.
Erica: Mom, he's upsetting me.
Beverly: You should go.
Murray: I'll go.

Erica: I'm getting a job.
Beverly: A job? You're just a child. I can't have you losing a foot in a forklift accident.
Erica: Forklift?
Beverly: Patty Newsome's son got his foot crushed his first day at the lumber yard. He'll never bike through Europe now. Is that what you want?

Barry: Guess whose life sucks a big sack of marbles. Just guess.
Pops: All right, Barry, what now?
Barry: First period, backpack rips open. Bad luck. Second period, I fail my pop quiz. Super bad luck. Third period gym, we're playing basketball, and a bird dooks on my face. He dooks on my face!

Manager: How are we doing over here?
Erica: Terrific. Just sold an extended warranty for a basketball.

Beverly: There's my little worker bee. Buzz, buzz.