March 9, 2015 | 0 Comments
Mickey [to Ian]: Hey, I’m sorry I’m late.
Mickey [to Ian]: Hey, I’m sorry I’m late.
Ian: I think this might be the end with Mickey. The diagnosis, you know, even if I don’t believe it, I’m pretty sure he does. Fiona:…
Sean [to Fiona]: So either fight for this marriage or cut him loose. Let him lick his wounds and move on, ya know? This halfway thing…
Lip: Silence in our house usually means someone stopped breathing. Fiona: Exactly.
Carl: Whatever, I’m out. Frank: Off to deal drugs on a Saturday morning? Carl: Yup. Frank: Impressive work ethic, son. You do your old…
Carl: Whats it feel like to be crazy? Ian: Um, like I’m under a wet blanket. And cotton mouth.
Debbie: He’s [Ian] totally Monica. Frank: Without the great ass.
Jimmy/Steve: Take care of yourself, Fiona Gallagher. Fiona: You take care of yourself, whatever the hell your real name is!
Gus [to Fiona]: I’m probably biased, you deserve better than him.
Sammi: If you don’t get out right now, I will shoot you. Frank: Go ahead. You don’t have the guts.