Jenna: I was addicted to saying things and having them matter to someone.
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.
Dr. Pomatter: Un-congratulations, you're definitely having a baby.
Jenna: Un-thank you.
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.
Dr. Pomatter: I want to talk to you, somewhere outside of here. Maybe we can have a coffee or something?
Jenna: I can't have coffee, it's on the bad food list you gave to me. What kind of doctor are you?
Becky: Dawn! You're beautiful! Your skin looks like a normal person's.
Dawn: Thank You.
Old Joe: Are you with child?
Old Joe: I saw that look on a woman's face before. Her name was Annette. I made sweet sweet love to her all through the summer of 1948, and she had that look on her face all through the fall.
Dr. Pomatter: So, what seems to be the problem?
Jenna: I seem to be pregnant.
Dr. Pomatter: Congratulations.
Jenna: Thanks, but I'm not so happy about it like everybody else might be. I'm having the baby and that's that.
Jenna: Earl Murders Me Because I'm Having An Affair Pie... You smash blackberries and raspberries into a chocolate crust.
Jenna: I Can't Have No Affair Because It's Wrong And I Don't Want Earl To Kill Me Pie... Vanilla custard with banana. Hold the banana.
Jenna: Pregnant Miserable Self Pitying Loser Pie... Lumpy oatmeal with fruitcake mashed in. Flambé of course.
Jenna: Dr. Pomatter?
Dr. Pomatter: Yes, Jenna?
Jenna: I just want to make sure we're clear about one thing.
Dr. Pomatter: What's that, Jenna?
Jenna: I want drugs. I want massive amounts of drugs. I want the maximum legal limit of drugs.
Dr. Pomatter: Noted and understood.
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.
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."
Dawn: I don't care if she is a pie genius. I wouldn't trade places with her.
Becky: No, me neither.