Andy Botwin: Hey Lupita, settle an argument for us. What do you call the thing between the dick and the asshole?
Lupita: The coffee table.
Celia Hodes: Everyone thinks I've lost my mind.
Shane Botwin: Everyone thinks I'm weird.
Celia Hodes: Well, I can see how you might give that impression.
Shane Botwin: I really don't care what they think.
Celia Hodes: Good for you. Let your freak flag fly.
Shane Botwin: Really?
Celia Hodes: Really. I've recently stopped giving a shit what anyone thinks, and I gotta tell you, I feel great.
Shane Botwin: But you have cancer.
Celia Hodes: And you have a dead father. Both of us make people really uncomfortable. There's no way around it. So either we can feel all self-concious and pretend that everything's normal, or we can just be our strange selves.
Shane Botwin: Thanks, Mrs. Hodes.
Celia Hodes: For what?
Shane Botwin: For telling me the truth.
Celia Hodes: You're welcome. It's a bitch, though, ain't it?
Celia Hodes: [about her upcoming mastectomy] I'm really gonna miss my babies. We had some good times together.
Nancy Botwin: After reconstructive surgery, you're gonna feel good as new - better! You're gonna have the tits of a nineteen-year-old girl.
Celia Hodes: I was thinking of going bigger.
Nancy Botwin: Bigger?
Celia Hodes: Really big. Like freakshow big. 47-triple-Fs. SO large that other, smaller breasts will want to orbit them.
Nancy Botwin: Andy, today, it was brought to my attention today that the downside of this business is death, so right now, I'm not thinking about the bakery. I'm thinking about enrolling in dental hygeine school so my children aren't orphans.
Andy Botwin: If anything happens to you, I will raise Silas and Shane as my own.
Nancy Botwin: [laughs] Now I pledge *never* to die.
Andy Botwin: This is my moment. I was born to cook drugs.
Erma the Faith Healer: Would you like me to smell you next?
Nancy Botwin: No, thank you, I was... smelled yesterday.
Heylia James: [on the two disparate ways a suburban house and a ghetto house are attacked] Shit, white folks get soda pop; niggers get bullets.