Jenna: Dear Baby, I hope someday somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight and that's all they do. They don't pull away. They don't look at your face. They don't try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness to it.
Jenna: I was addicted to saying things and having them matter to someone.
Jenna: [singing to her toddler daughter Lulu] Baby don't you cry, gonna make a pie, gonna make a pie with a heart in the middle/Baby don't be blue, gonna make for you, gonna make a pie with a heart in the middle/Gonna make a pie from heaven above, gonna be filled with strawberry love/Baby don't you cry, gonna make a pie, and hold you forever in the middle of my heart.
Jenna: Cal, are you happy? I mean, when you call yourself a happy man, do you really mean it?
Cal: You ask a serious question, I'll give you a serious answer: Happy enough. I don't expect much. I don't get much, I don't give much. I generally enjoy whatever comes along. That's my answer for you, summed up for your feminine consideration. I'm happy enough.
Earl: Hey. You remember what I said - don't you go lovin' that baby too much.
Jenna: I don't love you, Earl. I haven't loved you for years. I want a divorce.
Earl: [laughs] Well, that's not a funny joke. You got this new baby here, you shouldn't be making jokes like that...
Jenna: I want you the hell out of my life. You are never to touch me, ever again; I am done with you. If you ever come within six yards of me, I will flatten your sorry ass and I'll enjoy doin' it.
Ogie: [to Dawn] . If I had a penny for everything I love about you, I would have many pennies.
Jenna: I Hate My Husband Pie... You take bittersweet chocolate and don't sweeten it. You make it into a pudding and drown it in caramel
Jenna: Why did I get drunk? I do stupid things when I'm drunk... like sleep with my husband!
Jenna: Dear Baby: If I was writing you a letter, it would probably sounds something like an apology. I know everyone deserves a mama who'd want a nice baby such as yourself... who was also a good wife, a fine member of a society. And I can't rightly say that I'm any of that. And I'm not sure the world is scuh a fine place to bringing you. Many of the people I've met are not worth meeting. Many of the things that happened are not worth living through. And you shouldn't take it personal, Baby... if I don't seem like all the other mama-to-be, jumping all over themselves with joy. I frankly don't know what I got to give you, Baby. What if I leave Earl, and don't win that contest next week, and don't have money? What the hell am I gonna give you then? All my life, Baby, the only thing I wanna do is run away. What kind of mama is that? I wish I could think other things, Baby, like excitement that you with me now... or faith that I'll be a good mama... even if my life ain't such a good place, and the world as I see it ain't so pretty like they'd have you believe in this book. Anyway, writing this letter to you, sounds more like a letter writing to me, don't it? Love, Mama.
Old Joe: [after reading a news column about a woman contemplating suicide] Oh I love living vicariously through the pain and suffering of others.
Becky: If you havent noticed, my right boob is way up here in Maine and my left boob is danglin' down here in Florida.
Jenna: I don't want you to save me. I don't need to be saved.
Jenna: [voiceover] Dear damn baby, If you ever want to know the story of how we bought your damn crib, I will tell you. Your crib was bought with the money that was supposed to buy me a new life. Every time I lay you down in that damn crib, I'm gonna think, 'Damn baby. Damn Crib. Me stuck like a pin in this damn life.'
Jenna: Well, Cal, it seems that I'm almost five months pregnant.
Cal: Yeah? And?
Jenna: And... I thought I should tell you.
Cal: Heck, I already knew that.
Jenna: You did?
Cal: Yeah. Heck, I thought everyone knew.
Jenna: Well who told you?
Cal: Nobody needed to tell me. I mean look at you. What, you think I thought you went and let yourself get fat? Truth is, as long as you can carry a tray and fill a pie tin I don't care if you give birth while doing it. Maybe I'm not such a bad guy after all?
Jenna: Maybe you're not such a bad guy after all.
Cal: Well get out there Jenna, get back to work, we've got customers!
Earl: Open the cabinet where the coffee and the sugar jars are.
Jenna: I dont want...
Earl: [shouting] Just open it!
[Jenna opens the cabinet, and money falls out]
Earl: What is that, Jenna? What is that?
Earl: It's all over the fuckin' house! In cabinets, in drawers, under chairs, in closets! Money hidden all over my house!
Jenna: [whispering] I'm sorry.
Earl: After everything I've done for you, you go and hide money from me?
[falls to his knees, sobbing]
Earl: You're the only thing I ever loved, Jenna. You're the only person that ever belonged to me. And you having a secret from me tears me up.
Jenna: Pregnant Miserable Self Pitying Loser Pie... Lumpy oatmeal with fruitcake mashed in. Flambé of course
Dawn: They are poems that just occur to him on the spot. Last night he said to me, "Dawn, your face is a brilliant moon in my empty room. Your love is like a beating drum. Ba bum ba bum ba bum ba bum."
Dr. Pomatter: Well, I'm off to St. Mary's... to deliver a baby... because that's what I do.
Jenna: Are you happy? I mean, would you call yourself a happy man?
Cal: Well if you're asking me a serious question, I'll tell you: I'm happy enough. I don't expect much, I don't give much, I don't get much I'm generally enjoy whatever comes up. That's my truth, summed up for your feminine judgment. I'm happy enough.
Old Joe: [chuckles] I love living vicariously through the pain and suffering of others.
Earl: I don't care if you are fat now. You're my sweet thing.
Becky: Good, cause this is my lil' adventure.
Jenna: Your little adventure?
Becky: Yeah, I'm having me a lil' adventure after many years of lots of nothin'
Jenna: You love him?
Becky: Cal? I don't know. But I love it. I love having someone to look pretty for. I love waking up and having something to look forward to. Something fun and sneaky and sexy.
Jenna: He love you?
Becky: He kinda likes me, kinda hates me. It's fun.
Jenna: Doesn't sound very fun.
Becky: He makes me forget about my invalid husband. My loneliness. The dreadful misplacement of my bosoms.