Mickey Milkovich: What's wrong with him?
Fiona Gallagher: Uh, depression, I think.
Mickey Milkovich: He... he's depressed? What do you mean he's... We all get f**king depressed. How the f**k could we not, living around here?
Fiona Gallagher: It's not that kind of depressed, okay? Look, I could be wrong, but it could be bipolar disease, like our mom.
Mickey Milkovich: Bi... bi... What? What the f**k is that?
Mandy Milkovich: It's manic depression, Mick.
Fiona Gallagher: It's like high highs followed by low lows, over and over again.
(Doctors told Frank he'll die if he won't stop drinking alcohol...)
Frank Gallagher: Tragedy makes kids tough, Fiona.
Fiona Gallagher: Then be the fabulous narcissist that you are, and do it for yourself.
Frank Gallagher: What if I don't want to change?
Fiona Gallagher: Then I would know what I've always feared is true.
Frank Gallagher: What is that?
Fiona Gallagher: That you don't give a sh*t about any of us. So do it for you. Do it for your kids. It doesn't matter. Do it.
Fiona Gallagher: He said if you don't stop drinking, you're gonna die. As in dead, you know, like, no longer living? And soon.
Frank Gallagher: When did you start to care?
Fiona Gallagher: Not sure that I do. I've dreamt about your death. Put money in a collection box and prayed for it. Blew out my birthday candles, wished for it. If it actually ever happened, I don't know if I'd feel relief or guilt.
Frank Gallagher (laughs): Your birthday candles?
Fiona Gallagher: I wrote a letter to Santa once.
Frank Gallagher: So I'm supposed to stop drinking so that you don't feel guilty?
Fiona Gallagher: No. You're supposed to stop drinking because you have children at home who love you. And I don't know why. Who would be destroyed if anything happened to you.
Fiona Gallagher: The doctor talk to you, Frank?
Frank Gallagher: Yeah. "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, stop drinking. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."
Fiona Gallagher: He told me you were really sick.
Frank Gallagher: Do I look really sick to you? (flexes)
Fiona Gallagher: Said you were throwing up blood.
Frank Gallagher: That's 'cause I've got too much of it in me. It's a filtration process. My body knows how to flush itself out.
Fiona Gallagher: Jimmy doesn't seem angry exactly. He seems quiet.
Kevin Ball: Oh, god. Stop. Would you stop right there? We get quiet for one minute, and you guys think that we're obsessing about the relationship. And all we're thinking is, "I wonder if there's any more cheese."
Veronica Fisher: You mean we make you smarter than you are?
Kevin Ball: No, no, no. You make us more interested in you than we are.
Jimmy/Steve: It's the whole "my dad is gay for your brother" thing. It's like on a film loop in my brain. Ian's c*ck, my dad's mouth-- in, out, in, out.
Fiona Gallagher: It's just sex. He's still the same person.
Jimmy/Steve: But is he? Because I'm rethinking everything I even thought about him. Like in high school when my friends came over, was he checking out their a$$es? Or that guy, Uncle Rick-- his racquetball partner with the feathered hair?
Lip Gallagher: The ghetto girl thinks she can live the American dream, huh?
Fiona Gallagher: Maybe it's my time, Lip. (Mandy laughs) None of your business, Mandy.
Lip Gallagher: Don't you see, it doesn't work like that, sis. When you're poor, only way to make money is to steal it or scam it, like Don King or Joe Kennedy.