I Only Miss Her When I'm Breathing [6.01]

[Frank is woken by the cemetery gravedigger after sleeping there overnight.]

Cemetery Gravedigger: Come on, man. We talked about this. Look, I'm sorry for your loss, but you can't keep sleeping here. Look, you need to get on with your life, man. That's what your daughter would've wanted.

Frank: She wasn't my daughter. She was the love of my life. My sun, my moon, my dusk, my dawn. The spring in my step, the syrup on my waffle... the Tootsie in my pop.

Cemetery Gravedigger: Look, man, I got a grave to dig right over there, and you can't be here when the funeral party shows up.

Frank: Have a good day, my love. I'll see you tonight.

Debbie: How are you today, Mrs. P-fender?

Fiona: The P is silent, and stop calling me that.

Debbie: You're still married, though, right?

Fiona: Separated.

Debbie: Sounds like a "yes."

Frank: Jesus. What's the matter with you people? She was my soul mate.

Fiona: She probably killed herself just to get away from you.

...

Frank: I... I want to light a candle for Bianca at the foot of the blessed.

Fiona: No.

Frank: I hope someday you two have the precious gift of feeling what I felt for that beautiful young woman... [sobs]... and then to have that love stolen cruelly from you by a pitiless God, and then maybe, just maybe, you'll remember this day and your father's anguish and you'll be ashamed of the lack of compassion you showed him in his time of need. I love you, my little brown banana.

Fiona: I don't know how much more of that I can take before I stab him in the neck with a broken beer bottle.

Lip: I have a class.

One night stand: Yeah, me too.

Lip: Neo-Marxist philosophy of the Frankfurt School, Adorno and Fromm.

One night stand: Mm. I love Adorno.

Lip:[Laughs] You don't even know who Adorno was.

One night stand: Theodoro Adorno, Negative Dialectics, Minima Moralia. Now, Adorno advanced a dialectical conception of natural history that critiqued the twin temptations of ontology and empiricism through studies of Kierkegaard and Husserl.

Lip: You remembered that.

One night stand: I had an excellent professor.

[Lip sighs and gets up]

One night stand: No, stay.

Lip: I can't be responsible for impeding your academic growth.

[Lip knocks on window of Clyde Youens vehicle while he's asleep]

Lip: Professor? Professor Youens?

[Clyde wakes up and rolls down window]

Clyde: Hey.

Lip: Morning. Holy shit Is that a new scratch? It didn't look like that yesterday?

Clyde: No, I don't think so.

Lip: Is there any blood or bits of clothing stuck in the grille?

Clyde: Nope. [Sighs] Good rule of thumb, Philip: you start sideswiping cars, it's time to pull over and park. Boss Tweed cometh. How do I look?

Lip: Honestly, like shit.

[Clyde sighs. The Dean walks by]

Clyde: Morning, Dean. Glorious morning, wouldn't you say? Go, thee witch. Your virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese.

Lip: Morning, Dean.

The F Word [6.03]

[Gus takes the stage at a bar with Fiona at the side near the bartender]

Gus: So, uh, we have a special guest tonight. My wife is here. Haven't seen her for a while. She's right over there. Give a little wave, Fiona. [Audience applauds] This song's for you, babe. It's called "The F Word." [Starts playing light country rock music plays] When I was young, I remember, I was taught not to say the F word, I guess I forgot, as a grown man with an open heart inside. I got married to the F word and my heart slowly died. F is for Fiona with her fist a-flailing fire. F is for Fiona. I felt like I could fly, but then, fucking Fiona was fucking everyone, so fuck you, Fiona, 'cause now I'm fucking done. Fuck you, Fiona with your fist a-flailing fire. Fuck you, Fiona, I felt like I could fly, and then, fucking Fiona. You know that she was fucking everyone. So fuck you, Fiona 'cause now I'm fucking done.

Going Once, Going Twice [6.04]

Kevin: Yanis!

Yanis: Hey, brother.

Kevin: You going for a stroll? Going pretty fast there.

Yanis: You know where I'm going.

Kevin: Oh, God.

Yanis: You gonna help me? If not, you might as well get lost. You're drawing attention.

Kevin: I'm begging you, please turn around. Oh, God damn it.

Yanis: Good-bye, lawyer shit! You turned Yanis into a cripple! Now you and your shit wife and your shit kids are gonna die in a lawyer shit bonfire!

Kevin: No, no, no, he didn't cut the cable to your motorcycle. I did. But I meant to cut the throttle so you would stop revving your engine. I'm just trying to keep the peace in the neighborhood, man. Only the brake cable and the throttle cable look a lot alike, which is a design flaw. Yanis, you got paralyzed, and I feel really bad. I am so fucking sorry, man. But if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, we could have an extra strong friendship because of what we went through.

Yanis: Yeah?

Kevin: Oh, man. Oh, man. I can't tell you how good that feels to get that off my chest. It's like taking a 1,000-pound shit. What are you doing? Yanis, Yanis! Now, I know this brings up strong feelings, but-- hey, put that down so we can work on our extra strong friendship!

[Yanis throws a molotov at Kevin, misses]

Kevin: Aah! Aah! Holy shit! [Yanis lights another, accidentally drops it in the box on his lap, shattering it and spilling the accelerants all over him, self-combusting himself. Help! [Kev walks away with the whole of Yanis' body going up in a blaze]

Pimp's Paradise [6.07]

School principal: Mr. and Mrs. Slott--

Sammi: Gallagher for me.

School principal: Your grandson Charles tried to read a very offensive book report to Mr. Schwiebert's class.

Sammi: The boy doesn't know what he's saying.

Frank: Our grandson is a little slow between the ears.

School principal: Your grandson seems to believe that he's a Nazi. Any ideas where he's getting that from?

Sammi: Most likely other Nazis.

School principal: Charles received a suspension as a lesson for his behavior and a failing grade on the paper.

Frank: His shit-for-brains mother couldn't pass gas, let alone middle school. My grandson wrote an entire report here and you're gonna fail him for this?

School principal: Hey, I'll read it. A couple of grammatical things here and there. He didn't remember to capitalize Auschwitz, but the kid can write. Hitler's diatribe on Aryan superiority is not an appropriate theme for a sixth grade book report.

Frank: Did you tell the class they couldn't write about Nazis?

School principal: Well, usually, they're not writing from the Nazi perspective, so no. Look, it's okay to write about mass murders. You just can't side with the mass murderers.

Frank: Uh, this is a direct attack on his First Amendment rights, a right, I might add, that belongs to everyone regardless of intelligence deficiencies or possible retardation. Yes, but there are conditions to those rights, like yelling "fire" in a public theater or preaching white supremacy to middle school students.

School principal: Look, we simply can't allow Hitler's hate speech to alienate our diverse student body. We've worked very hard to create an open atmosphere for all our students.

Frank: Look, you can't go teaching equality and then get your human rights panties in a bunch when it comes with a couple of wedgies. Every asshole is entitled to his beliefs. That's the yin and the yang of democracy. It's the same freedom that allows you to teach wearing that silly beanie and those Crayola-colored kids out there to go to school together. It-- it doesn't matter anyway. Pretty soon, there's not gonna be any Jew or Aryan or Hindu or Muslim or Mexican or Blacks. There's just gonna be the rich and the fucked, and our grandson is already one of the fucked. So at least let the boy express the degenerate ideas he can actually comprehend, and that, my multicultural friends, is liberty and justice for all.

School principal: Or we could call the attorney general and the ACLU.

[Chuckie is reading his report to his classmates with their parents at the side, all looking in absolute dismay]

Chuckie: So the superiors put all the inferiors in bad summer camps 'cause they didn't want 'em crossin' the border and ruinin' the neighborhood, and that is why Hitler is a great American leader.

Frank: German, but I think you've made your point here, my young Trump.

A Yurt's Of One's Own [6.09]

Debbie: I'm a pregnant teenage mom, my boobs feel like watermelons, my hormones are going crazy, and my feet hurt, but I still managed to watch last week's episode of Shameless. What the hell is your excuse?