J.D.: [v.o.] It's always nice when someone from Carla's family comes to town. Mostly because she cleans our apartment.
Carla: Why is there a pancake in the silverware drawer?
Turk: You mean, why is there silverware in the pancake drawer? Wuh-huh!

Joey: Where is the waitress? I'm starving.
Chandler: It's a buffet, man.
Joey: Oh, here's where I win all my money back!

Rachel: Well, now that everybody has ordered, I would like to start the celebration and make a toast to Phoebe. She dropped her sock.
Phoebe: Aw. What?
Rachel: No. No, Emma dropped her sock.
Monica: Mom's here? I wanted to have lunch with her today. She told me she was out of town.
Rachel: Ross, she still has not noticed that the baby's sock is on the ground.
Phoebe: It's a good toast.
Rachel: Look, will you please get her attention?
Ross: Oh. Mommy? Mother. [mouths] Sock.
Phoebe: Oh, for God's sake. Judy, pick up the sock! Pick up the sock! Pick up the sock!

Janitor: The door is broke. Probably the fifth time or so it don't open.
J.D.: Maybe a penny's stuck in there.
Janitor: Why a penny?
J.D.: I don't know.
Janitor: Did you stick a penny in there?
J.D.: No, I was making small talk.
Janitor: If I find a penny in there, I'm taking you down.

Rose: Wait a minute. If you didn't sleep with any of the men in these journals, then how come it says "Bed" on the cover?
Blanche: [laughs] Oh, that doesn't say "Bed".
Rose: Right there, it does.
Blanche: Oh, silly, those are my initials. Blanche Elizabeth Devereaux.
Dorothy: Your initials spell "Bed"?

Emily: I just wanna know what you were thinking. What was the reasoning? How on earth did you justify it to yourself?
Lorelai: Max is a great guy. An amazing guy. He's smart. He's sweet. He cooks.
Emily: So you decided to kiss him in your daughter's school.
Lorelai: No, I decided to break up with him in my daughter's school and the kissing part just happened.
Emily: You always let your emotions get in the way. That's the problem with you, Lorelai. You don't think.
Lorelai: Mom, please.
Emily: He's just a man, Lorelai.
Lorelai: No, he's not.
Emily: Oh, so, what are you telling me? This was all worth it because he was the love of your life? That this was the man for you?
Lorelai: I don't know. He might have been. Excuse me.

Ron: Well, what do you got here? You know, you got "Don Ho: Live At Honolulu", you got "Jerry Vale Sings Italian Love Songs" you got Sergio Mendes, now come on...
Kramer: Wait, wait, wait. Sergio Mendes has a cult following.
Newman: They follow him like a cult.
Kramer: He can't even walk down the street in South America.
Ron: Look, that's his problem, all right? Now you don't like it, too bad.
Kramer: [in Newman's ear] I don't like it.
Newman: I don't like it.
Ron: Well, then get the hell out of my store, all right? You bring me something decent, I'll give you some money.
Kramer: [in Newman's ear] All right, we'll be back, jack.
Newman: All right, we'll be back, jack!

Jay: You know, it's... Thing about babies, you... you fall in love with a baby with the cutest little fat folds, and then... bam... they're gone. But it's okay, because in its place is this... toddler with the greatest laugh on Earth. And then one day, the toddler's gone, and in its place, a little kid that asks the most interesting questions you've ever heard. And this keeps going on like that, but you never get the chance to miss any of them, 'cause there's always a new kid to take the place of the old. Until they grow up. And then... in a moment, all those kids you fell in love with walk out the door at the same time.
Waitress: Jesus.
Jay: Oh, I don't mean to be a bummer. I'm just saying it goes fast. Like the expression... "You never know the last time you pick up your kid."

Michael Scott: Am I the kind of person to misremember our relationship as something more than it ever was?
Jan: Michael Scott, you are here for a post mortem.
Michael Scott: What?
Jan: You wanna dig into our relationship, go over it, see what killed it. Okay, I'm in.

Dwight K. Schrute: [wagging tongue for voice exercises] blah blah blah. Greta the tittle-tattle prattled on about the little metal bottle. She spat a bit of spittle on the moth that bit the cattle in a bitter battle. Hey, hey! Stop questioning my methods, okay? I was chosen for this task for a very good reason.
Jim: No, you chose yourself.
Dwight K. Schrute: Tricky Siskel spat a bit of wicked biscuit....