Buster: I'm a scholar. I enjoy scholarly pursuits.
Lucille: Suddenly, playing with yourself is a scholarly pursuit.
Well, now, who the hell is going to unload the car? (Into phone) Hola? Is Rosa still alive? No? Oh. Ok. This is not my day.
They've got a bus, and they want to use parking lot to this building as a meeting place. I mean, for God's sake, it's not a hardware store. We can't have them hanging around like a bunch of freeloaders looking for an easy buck.
Michael: You get a paycheck from the Bluth Company?
Lucille: Well, it's important to the company that I keep up the image of my lifestyle.
Michael: Illusion, Mom.
Lucille: I don't have the milk of mother's kindness in me anymore.
Michael: Yeah. That udder's been dry for a while though, hasn't it?
Lucille: Michael, the little Korean is here, and I don't know what to do with him. At least, I think it's a him. You've got to strip them down to next to nothing before you could even tell.
Michael: Yeah. Mom, I just spoke to Social Services, and although they don't like to do this, if you can prove that it's a bad environment for a child, and I would suggest saying what you just said to me. Don't change a word. They will take him back.
Buster: Whoa, whoa, whoa! We are not allowed to have candles in here. Mom would freak.
Lucille: Oh, no, it's fine. This is America, baby. You pray how you want.
Oh, for God's sake. He's on his own for two days, and he joins a gang.</i> Lucille
Barry Zuckerkorn: It would help if you would all show up looking like a loving, supportive family.
Lucille: For how long?
Barry Zuckerkorn: Ten minutes tops.
Lucille: See if you can get it down to five.
Lucille: Look, you're my husband, and you belong back at home with me.
George, Sr.: You really love me.
Lucille: Call it what you want. I'm tired of paying Lupe to clean one dish.
Lucille: Why haven't you called me back? I'm worried about your father's hearing.
Michael: Mom, listen, it's going to be fine. I'm on it, ok? I'm taking care of it. I'll be there first thing Friday morning.
Lucille: It's tomorrow at 4:30!
Michael: Oh, I should write that down.
(about Maeby) She's not real. She was made in a cup. Like soup. $130,000 cup of soup.