Morticia: You have gone too far. You have married Fester, you have destroyed his spirit, you have taken him from us. All that I could forgive, but Debbie...
Debbie: What?
Morticia: Pastels?

Debbie: And I dreamed that when I met him that we would wait until our wedding night to give ourselves to one another, to make the ultimate sacrifice.
Uncle Fester: A goat?

My parents, Sharon and Dave. Generous, doting. Or were they? All I ever wanted was a Ballerina Barbie. In her pretty pink tutu. My Birthday. I was 10, and do you know what they got me? *Malibu* Barbie.

Joel: Wednesday, do you think someday you might want to get married and have kids?
Wednesday: No.
Joel: But what if you met just the right man, who worshiped and adored you, who'd do anything you say, who'd be your devoted slave? Then what would you do?
Wednesday: I'd pity him.

Morticia: Wednesday's at that very special age when a girl has only one thing on her mind.
Ellen Buckman: Boys?
Wednesday: Homicide.