Mrs. Arntz: I'd um, I'd let you in, but I have a dog, and she's very nervous around black people.
McNeil: (whispering) Oh really? Who's black?
Mrs. Arntz: Well, isn't your friend...? (indicates Pip)
McNeil: Oh, no, he's really more of a deep brown, wouldn't you say?
McNeil: Who is she?
Pip: Sylvia. I knew her when I was a kid. Really hot. I always wondered what it would be like to be with her... you know, sex-wise? She wanted to, but... guess I was too much of a gentleman.
McNeil: How old were you?
Pip: Ah, seventeen.
McNeil: Seventeen? Man, at seventeen you'll hump anything! You know, furniture, pillows, wood paneling... That's the way it's supposed to be. Seventeen, those were the days, brother, where were you?
Tommy: (about Frank) He's selfish, Jan. A selfish, selfish person. (to Frank) You don't care about yourself, but you expect us to care about you. You better start making some changes, Frank, 'cause I'm not gonna sit around and watch you kill yourself. 'Cause I'm your partner, I'm your friend, (choking up) and I love you too much to watch you do this!
McNeil: Big day. Frank had a heart attack, and Tommy's gay.