Dr. Goodwin: Uh, so, I guess I ask you questions, right? Okay. Well, tell me... who is Frankie Heck?
Frankie: Well, I'm warm and special and amazing and beautiful and lively.
Frankie: [v.o.] Oh, God. What was I thinking? I should never have listened to my mother's load of crap. Of course she said those things. She's my mother. I sound like an idiot.
Frankie: You know what? I don't know. I just don't know. You want one word to describe me? "Mom." There. That's it. I can get dressed in under 30 seconds. I can pull anything out of my bag without looking. You need a quarter? Got it. Protein bar? How about a pen? Blue or black? I can hold off creditors for months, I can listen to five conversations at the same time. Oh, and apparently, I'm a delight in a carpool. Okay. I suck. Good-bye. I'll let myself out.
Dr. Goodwin: Uh, uh, first of all, I love my mom. Moms are angels. Don't talk bad about moms. And I like that creditor thing. I used a lot of the government's money to go to school, and they kind of want it back.
Frankie: Oh. Really?
Dr. Goodwin: And how many kids did you say you have? 'Cause I see a lot of 'em here, and they're nasty.
Frankie: Oh, I have three wonderful children. They're really more like my best friends.
Dr. Goodwin: That's just like me and my mom. [sighs] This just feels right to me. And I don't want to talk to any more people. You're hired.
Frankie: Are you serious? Oh! Thank God! [hugs Dr. Goodwin] Oh. Ooh. Sorry. It's probably too soon to do that. Must have been that sip of wine I had before I came in.

Brick: Actually, "lazy" and "tired" are kind of the same thing.
Axl: Yeah, but I still think she's more lazy than angry.
Brick: I don't know. If you call her on being lazy, she gets really angry.
Sue: Mm. That's not fair.
Frankie: Thank you.
Sue: She's only angry because she's getting older, nothing turned out like she wanted, and now at this late stage of her life, when she should be able to kick back and relax, she's stuck grabbing at her one last chance to try and make something of herself.

Frankie: I didn't get the job.
Mike: Aw. Well, don't worry. You'll get 'em next time. Right?
Frankie: I'm not so sure, Mike. Apparently, in order to get a job, you have to know who you are.
Mike: Well, I know who you are. You're someone who needs a job.
Frankie: Well, that's not enough anymore. It's a whole thing now. You gotta be able to sell yourself. I wasn't even able to sell a car. How the Heck am I supposed to sell myself?
Brick: That's true. That is why you got fired.
Frankie: I was not fired, Brick. I was let-- ugh.