“Look, lady, I’m not going to bullshit you. I need to smoke enough crack cocaine to communicate with aliens. Give me all the money you got!”

“Let us not be satisfied with just giving money. Money is not enough, money can be got, but they need your hearts to love them. So, spread your love everywhere you go.”

“Forget all of our past bullshit, okay? I’ve got less than a handful of days to convince you that I’m not a complete douche bag, and I want a fair shot. Give it to me.”

“-- He just gave me some money to go shopping, I don't need his money., I've got a purseful. That's not going to make me feel better anyway, I've been on Prozac since I was fifteen, I need pills now to fall asleep, I go out every night, I drink, I sniff, I go into hysterics, I cry, I scream, and all he can do is give me money, money, money, I'm sick of it, look!”

“Oh God.”I told you not to look.”No, you didn’t. You said ‘in a minute.’ That’s not the same thing at all.”It is to me.”She swallowed back her gorge. Her throat was tight in the aftermath. “I’m adding communication issues to the stuff we need to work on.”I communicate just fine. The way I see it, your listening is off.”

“KIRBY: A man can't give up his business.GRANDPA: Why not? You've got all the money you need. You can't take it with you.”