Everybody: Gabs about Zoey's blog despite being uninterested.
Eleanor: "Jacks, will you accompany me to another ghastly open house full of free liquor and grabby Russians?"
Jackie: "I have to go watch my daughter martyr herself or something. And find lots more drugs and take them. But that last part's a secret. Let's focus on me being a parent."
Eleanor: "And referring to your husband as your jailer, despite the fact that I was the driving force behind your intervention. And making fun of Zoey's blog out of nowhere."
Baby Boomers, even as you're turning into your parents: "We sniff at the internet because we can't even handle the idea of not understanding everything better than our parents."
Sidney Poitier, once upon a time: "Not until your whole generation has laid down and died will the dead weight of you be off our backs."
Is a drug addict, single mom, whose twelve-year-old called it in and is remarkably and sadly self-possessed.
Eleanor: "Nothing like getting trashed with your twelve-year-old."
Jackie: "Maybe I should try that, if Grace makes it to twelve. Couldn't possibly be more depressing than just hanging out with her normal."
Kelly: "Hey, kid of Patient One. Did I ever tell you about the time I taught Lisa Loeb to love again?"
Jackie: "Just you being nice to a patient or patient's family member makes me want to fucking punch through a wall. Zoey, take this kid outside for a smoke."
Zoey, awesomely: "I do not smoke, but I do have this weird gum that I get in Chinatown. It's black!"
THE CANDY-COLORED CHAOS OF GRACE'S MIND
Grace, after much bitching about this and that: Drops her ten thousand saint cards all over the car. Instantly fifty people's grandmothers drop dead, in Queens alone.
Kevin: "I'll collect your saints, Grace. You just take your mess on into school for the nuns to deal with."