[everyone around her is arguing] Well what about me?

Whitney Taylor Brown

Is that my sweet Rachel's voice I heard? Or am I just goin' meshuga?

Marilyn Hack

Dying is easy. Playing a lesbian is hard.

Mary Pat Hooligan

What if we do a, uh, a different holiday around the table, Easter, and just focus on the rabbit?

Whitney Taylor Brown

Someone's killed their children and made them into cookies, and I want to go se that.

Whitney Taylor Brown

Miles Raymond: Let me show you how this is done. First thing, hold the glass up and examine the wine against the light. You're looking for color and clarity. Just, get a sense of it. OK? Uhh, thick? Thin? Watery? Syrupy? OK? Alright. Now, tip it. What you're doing here is checking for color density as it thins out towards the rim. Uhh, that's gonna tell you how old it is, among other things. It's usually more important with reds. OK? Now, stick your nose in it. Don't be shy, really get your nose in there. Mmm... a little citrus... maybe some strawberry...
[smacks lips]
Miles Raymond: ... passion fruit...
[puts hand up to ear]
Miles Raymond: ... and, oh, there's just like the faintest soupçon of like asparagus and just a flutter of a, like a, nutty Edam cheese...
Jack: Wow. Strawberries, yeah! Strawberries. Not the cheese...

You gotta help me! You gotta help me!

Jack

Did you drink and dial?

Jack

Jack: If they want to drink Merlot, we're drinking Merlot.
Miles Raymond: No, if anyone orders Merlot, I'm leaving. I am NOT drinking any fucking Merlot!

Maya: What's the title?
Miles Raymond: The Day After Yesterday.
Maya: Oh... You mean today?

Jack: Man! That's tasty!
Miles Raymond: That's 100% pinot noir. Single vineyard. They don't even make it any more.
Jack: Pinot noir?
Miles Raymond: Mmm-hmm.
Jack: Then how come it's white?
Miles Raymond: [laughs] Oh, Jesus. Don't ask questions like that up in wine country. They'll think you're some kind of dumbshit, OK?

Jack: Listen, man. Cammi gets off in an hour, so I was thinking I'd just hang around and have a drink, and make sure she gets home safe.
Miles Raymond: You're joking, right?
Jack: No.
Miles Raymond: Un-fucking-believable. Can't we just... go back to the motel... and hang out... and get up early, play 9 holes of golf... before we head home?
Jack: [puts his hand on Miles' shoulder] Listen, man. You're my friend, and I know you care about me. And I know you disapprove, and I respect that. But there are some things that I have to do that you don't understand. You understand literature, movies, wine... but you don't understand my plight.

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