Alice Pressman, the Mother: [about a patient miss-treating her son] She doesn't know how hard you struggle

John Pressman: [Simpering] John is your best boy isn't he mother?

Alice Pressman, the Mother: [as John consumes a concotion of liquids mixed with sliced bananas] Yes John... you're my best boy and the best surgeon in town.

Alice Pressman, the Mother: [Forcing him to consume a mass of pouched eggs] Eat, Eat, EAT! You need energy... there's a nice boy.

Alice Pressman, the Mother: Your head is filling with blood.

Alice Pressman, the Mother: Years ago you were like a snail. Hiding... happy...

Alice Pressman, the Mother: [toying fondly with a snail] What are you looking at with those little eyes?

[last lines]

John Pressman: [to Patty] Like the doctor said, it's all in your imagination. I really don't exist.