Paul: ...this is a new rule — no boys upstairs, downstairs, anywhere in the house until after the holidays — which includes Christmas, New Year's, Fourth of July, and, for good measure, Groundhog Day.
Cate: Okay, readers, today we're having a little pop quiz. It's multiple choice. So sharpen your number two pencils and put on your thinking caps. Ready? Here's a quote: "Dad, you're an idiot." Now, contestants, this was said to me because of which of the following transgressions? A: Coming to the breakfast table wearing pajamas and black socks? B: Asking my oldest daughter if that guy I saw her talking to yesterday at school was her boyfriend? C: Referring to rapper Fiddy Cent as "Fifty Cents"? or D: Entering the room? Okay, pencils down. Actually it was a trick question. The answer is all of the above. Now do you know how many times I called my father an idiot? Zero. Why? Because I feared him. Back then we didn't share our deep personal feelings, our deepest conversations usually revolved around the Tigers bullpen. But my kids, I can't get them to shut up! There's not a feeling that my kids are afraid to express over and over and over. And my wife reassures me this is a good thing over and over and over, and she's always right.
— Cate, reading Paul's last article before he died
Kerry: Remember when we were real little? ... Mom and Dad used to go out and we wouldn't want them to, and they'd say "Well, what do you know about mommies and daddies?" And we would say... "They always come back."
Bridget: Unless they collapse in Aisle 3 at the stupid grocery store.
—Kerry and Bridget discussing Paul's death