Jack: I guess we both lost children today.
Liz: Yeah, but mine was real. Yours was ... Frank.

Becca: I can't believe you don't have kids - you'd make such a great mom. You're smart, you're successful, you're grounded...
Liz: Aww, go on.
Becca: You already dress like a mom.
Liz: Aaaaand, stop.

Frank: In Sicilian, [Rossitano] means 'well poisoner.'
Jack: In Gaelic, Donaghy means 'dung basket.'

[to Liz] Donuts and bed? What are you depressed about, or celebrating?


[on birthdays] I don't need it. I buy myself all the presents I need. And because of my drinking, I'm often surprised.


You shut up, mouth.


[to Tim] Love it because it has your goony face, get married, and have disposable cameras at the wedding, because it's fun and people like it.


[to Tim] Nut up right now, get a job and help raise that kid.


[on his dad] He'd show up every now and then to impregnate my mother and punch out the umpires in Little League.

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