Frank Barone: What's for brunch, Marie?
Marie Barone: Ham.
Frank Barone: Excellent. I shall put on my ham pants.
Frank Barone: What in the holy name of crap are you talking about?
Marie Barone: He hates it when I cry. It reminds him of our wedding night.
Debra Barone: You know what, I'm tired! Could you just call yourself an idiot?
Ray Barone: This coming from the guy who once threw his shoe at a swan.
Frank Barone: It's called protecting your sandwich!
Ray Barone: You can't create fate, 'cause then it's not fate, it's voodoo.
Frank Barone: Whatever helps you sleep at night, Peaches.
Robert Barone: I'm a cop and live with my parents. I'm on a constant diet of human suffering.
Answer: War.
By whom?
Edwin Starr.