Lindsay: My thing with Tobias was a secret, like you stealing your brother's girlfriend, you little weasel. I mean, I open up to you, you run off and tell Mommy.
Michael: Excuse me. Excuse me! Outside, please. Thank you. Pardon us. Like it wasn't just a bunch of lies to get me to pay that debt, huh? Isn't that why you got me drunk in the first place?

Maeby: I don't think you're a monster.
Lucille: And I think you're a lovely girl. You know what? I think you and I ought to spend more time together.
Maeby: Yeah. And that'll drive them crazy.
Lucille: Exactly.

Maeby: You ever get the feeling like you don't even matter?
Lucille: Only when I'm around my children.

Michael: Dad, you're not going to outrun me in that dress!
George, Sr.: Come on. Michael, let go!
Michael: Dad!
George, Sr.: For God's sake, I'm not even wearing a jock.

Wayne Jarvis: I shall duck behind that little garbage car.
Michael: Guy's a pro.

Monti: You know, I saw you do this when I was a kid. I was so impressed, you know. You were so still and god-like. You know, it was at that moment that I knew I would be a dancer.
George, Sr.: Glad I could make a difference.

Lucille 2: You ready to show me off before God and the whole world?
Buster: Well, it's not my Dad's reaction I'm worried about.

Michael: Excuse me, Wayne, my sister and I were outside having a business discussion, and we were wondering if there's some sort of legal way that we can humiliate our mother? Something shaming, something public.
Wayne Jarvis: I've used one adjective to describe myself. What is it?
Michael: Professional.

Lucille: What are you doing here?
Gob: I had to get away from Marta. Ugh. If I have to smell another meal of fish, rice and mango, I'm going to kill somebody.

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