Lucille: It's so nice not to have to worry about getting pregnant. The doctor said I couldn't be a mother now if I tried.
Michael: And that was without even interviewing me.

Michael: You know, instead of competing with Tobias, why don't you try just spending a little bit more time with your daughter?
Lindsay: Why? Tobias doing that?

(At boot camp)
Buster: I can't do it; I can't make my bed, and I can't do this, either... I'm sorry. Aren't you supposed to yell at me and call me "homo" and motivate me over this wall?
Sergeant Baker: We can't do that anymore. Lawsuit.

Lindsay: (regarding Tobias and their open marriage) I wonder how many women he's slept with, if any.
Michael: Lindsay, it's not a competition.
Lindsay: Of course it is, Michael. That's why they call it 'scoring'.
Michael: Maybe in the '70s.
Lindsay: That many? We've only been doing this for a month.

Lucille: You smell like a pine cone.
George Sr.: (disguised as Oscar) Yeah, that's the weed. I went to my, uh, *BEEP*hole trailer and, uh, I smoked some... Like a cigarette.

Michael: Why'd you have to come back here in the first place?
George Sr.: Oh, no reason. Your mother happens to be just shtupping my brother, that's all.

Barry: Well, if he's got a shot with her, just give me a little tap on the fanny.
Michael: It's not going to happen.

Can I have a moment alone with my client, please? (to Michael) Did you follow any of that?


George Sr.: Hey, by the way, I broke this thing. What the hell is it, anyway?
Michael: That's a breast pump, dad.
George Sr.: Oh, well, I did not use it for that.

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