Doug: Beer is for breakfast around here, drink or begone.

Brian: You're offering me a job?
Doug: Uh huh.
Brian: The waitresses hate me!
Doug: You wait till you've given them crabs. Then you'll really know hatred.

Brian: I am the last barman poet / I see America drinking the fabulous cocktails I make / Americans getting stinky on something I stir or shake / The sex on the beach / The schnapps made from peach / The velvet hammer / The alabama slammer. / I make things with juice and froth / The pink squirrel / The 3-toed sloth. / I make drinks so sweat and snazzy / The iced tea / The kamakazi / The orgasm / The death spasm / The Singapore sling / The dingaling. / America you've just been devoted to every flavor I got / But if you want to got loaded / Why don't you just order a shot? / Bar is open.

Coral: I would like to try the orgasm please.
Brian: How many would you like?
Coral: Multiple.

Doug: There are two kinds of people in this world: The workers and the hustlers. The Hustlers never work, and the workers never hustle.

Bonnie: Don't let it end this way.
Brian: All things end badly, or else they wouldn't end.

Jordan: So what if I got you spooked again?
Brian: I won’t.
Jordan: I bet I can spook you.
Brian: No way.
Jordan: I’m pregnant.
Brian: I’m spooked.

Brian: Days get shorter and shorter, nights longer and longer, before you know it, you life is just one long night with a few comatose daylight hours.

Doug: Anything else is always something better.

Uncle Pat: Most things in life, good and bad, just kinda' happen to ya'.

My dearest Brian, A guy like me looks in the mirror. He either grins or he starts to fade away. I haven’t seen anything to grin about in a long time. This may not be the most graceful exit, but I know when a bottle’s empty. The only thing I’m really going to miss are the conversations we had going. At least I get the last word even if I had to mail it in. Coughlin’s law: Bury the dead, they stink up the joint. As for the rest of Coughlin’s laws, ignore them. The guy was always full of shit. (laughs) But I guess you already knew that already.

Brian: If Jordan gives birth to a fine Irish son / There will be Cocktails and Dreams for him one day to run / A business that will yield the financial windfall / To be franchised in every suburban shopping mall. / If a daughter arrives to bless our clan / I guess the shit will finally hit the fan / But this I shall promise thee / I'll never let her marry a guy like me. / Still if our child is the naughtiet of girls or the wildest of young men / I swear I'll be the best dad I can / And never ever get spooked again.
Jordan: I beat I can spook you.
Brian: I don't think so.(Jordan whispers in his ear.)Twins?