Monica: Hi, honey.
Chandler: Please, please, please, don't be mad at me.
Monica: What? Why would-?
Phoebe: Ssh. Wait and see. Maybe we will, maybe we won't.

Ursula: Yeah, we're not 30. We're 31. That's what it says on my birth certificate.
Phoebe: You have a birth certificate?
Ursula: Yeah, I got a big box of family stuff when my mom died.
Phoebe: Our mom.
Ursula: Right. Okay.

Eric: There's only a problem when I look at you. I got it. I got it.
Phoebe: No, don't tear out your eyes!
Eric: I was just gonna take out my lenses.
Phoebe: Oh, yeah. Try that. So, is that better?
Eric: Not really. You're blurry, but you still look like Ursula. You're "Blursula."

Phoebe: Hey, you guys? I'm sorry that I was hogging the game before. Oh, my God. Your friends have some unfortunate initials.

Mike: Wow. You look ... like my mom.
Phoebe: I'm wearing pantyhose.

Waiter: Excuse me, these are from the two gentlemen at the end of the bar.
Phoebe: Should we send them something back? Let's send them mashed potatoes.

Joey: Monica just called from the cab. She said they should be here any minute. And apparently, there's some big surprise.
Phoebe: Yeah, did she sound happy about it? 'cause my friend Ethel's baby was born with a teeny, tiny beard.

Phoebe: Oh, but you know, you always see these really beautiful women with these really "nothing" guys. You could be one of those guys.
Monica: Oh, yeah. You could do that.

Monica: And Phoebe you're going to be with your grandmother.
Phoebe: Yeah, and her boyfriend. But we're celebrating Thanksgiving in December because he's lunar.

Monica: I'm cooking for him Monday, kind of an audition. Phoebe, he wants you here, which will be great as you can make yummy noises.
Rachel: What are you gonna make?
Phoebe: Yummy noises.
Rachel: And Monica what are you going to make?