Erica Barry: Ahh!
Harry: [Seeing Erica] Oh!! Oh.
Erica Barry: No! STOP!
Harry: OH! OOH!
Erica Barry: [hides behind door] AAHH! STOP!
Harry: [covers his eyes] Oh, I'm sorry! Oh, God... am I sorry.
Erica Barry: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
Harry: I'm sorry! I didn't see anything... Just your tits.

Harry: What about birth control?
Erica Barry: Menopause.
Harry: [pauses] Who's the lucky boy?

Harry: Oh. Her. She is a major piece of work. Doc, the woman wears turtlenecks in the middle of summer: she's beyond uptight. Almost makes her fun to be around.
Julian Mercer: Uptight. That's funny, I haven't noticed that.
Harry: Try living with her.

Harry: I don't think I've ever had this effect on a woman before.
Erica Barry: What effect do you think you're having on me?
Harry: I don't quite recognize it. That's how I know I never had it before.

Erica Barry: What are you doing here, Harry?
Harry: Turns out the heart attack was easy to get over. You... were something else. I finally get it. I'm 63 years old... and I'm in love for the first time in my life.

Harry: Where's Julian?
Erica: He's back at the hotel. He said when he saw me with you, he knew I was still in love with you... what do you have to say about that?
Harry: If... if it's true, my life just got made.

Marin: Harry was once engaged to Diane Sawyer.
Zoe: Diane Sawyer? No way, I love her!
Erica Barry: That's wonderful!
Harry: Women your age love that about me.
Erica Barry: Ah.
Harry: No, that's a good thing.
Erica Barry: I'm sure you meant it as a compliment.
Harry: Yes, it was meant as a compliment.

Harry: [as Eric tries to call the cops, believing he is an intruder] You don't understand... I'm dating your daughter!
Erica Barry: Oh my God! You're dating my daughter?
Harry: Now who would have thought that was worse news?

Erica Barry: I'm... I'm sorry.
Harry: For what?
Erica Barry: I... I just kissed you.
Harry: No, honey. I kissed you.

Harry: [after a kiss] Soft lips.
Erica: I'm so glad they still work. I haven't used them for kissing in such a long time, more like for wearing lipstick... and whistling.

Harry Sanborn: Some people consider rap poetry.
Erica Barry: C'mon, how many words can you rhyme with bitch?

Harry Sanborn: I can't get past your damn turtleneck.
Erica Barry: Cut it off!

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