Happy Fuller: Somehow you always love in a special way the one who gives you the most grief.

The outward appearance would never indicate they were brothers. (...) But she could see that at the moment they were as united as triplets in the womb.

I have no idea why it apparently takes three grown men to cook some hamburgers. One to cook, one to kibbitz, and one to insult the other two.

It's about us. It's about trust.

Two women can't share a house comfortably, no matter how fond they might be of each other. It's got to be one woman's kitchen.

What is technology?... It's another god.

The tune was sad, as the best of Ireland was, melancholy and lovely as a lover's tears.