Phoebe: She was, you know, 82-years-old and her name was Mrs. Adelman.
Monica: Oh, honey.
Phoebe: Yeah, it's just so strange. You know she probably woke up this morning and thought, "All right, I'll have some breakfast. And I'll take a little walk and I'll have have my massage." Little did she know God was thinking, "Okay, but that's it."

Teacher: What do you think? Uh, you in the blue shirt?
Phoebe: I think that yours is a question with many possible answers.
Teacher: Would you care to venture one?
Phoebe: Would you care to venture one?
Teacher: Are you just repeating what I'm saying?
Phoebe: Are you just repeating what I'm saying?
Teacher: All right. Let's move on.
Phoebe: Okay, then.

Phoebe: Thank you. Now, if you want to receive e-mails about my upcoming shows, then please give me money so I can buy a computer.

Bitsy: Tell us a little bit about yourself. So where are you from?
Phoebe: Okay. Well, all right. Originally, I'm from upstate but then my mom killed herself, and my stepdad went to prison. So I moved to the city, where I actually lived in a burned-out Buick LeSabre for a while. Which was okay. That was okay. Until I got hepatitis, you know because this pimp spit in my mouth and- But I got over it. And, anyway, now I'm a freelance massage therapist which, you know, isn't always steady money, but at least I don't pay taxes. [as Katharine Hepburn] So where does everyone summer?

Phoebe: Uh, Rach, hang on.
Ross: [mouths] No, no, no.
Rachel: Phoebe? Is everything okay?
Phoebe: Um, actually no. No, you have to get off the plane.
Rachel: What? Why?
Phoebe: I have this feeling that something's wrong with it. Something is wrong with the left phalange.

Phoebe: Hello? Ross, could you put up some of these flyers for me?
Ross: [smiling] Yeah.
Phoebe: No! Demon! Demon!

Phoebe: [playing guitar and singing] It only takes two heart attacks, To finally make you see, One of them won't do it, But the second will set you free, Tell all your hate and anger, It's time to say goodbye, And that is just what I will do, Soon as those bastards I worked for die!

Monica: He pooped in my shoe.
Phoebe: Which one?
Monica: The cute little black ones I wear all the time.
Phoebe: No, which one? The right or left? Because the left one is lucky.

Ross: Okay, Phoebe, this is it. In this briefcase I carry actual scientific facts. A briefcase of facts, if you will. Some of these fossils are over 200 million years old.
Phoebe: Okay, look. Before you even start, I'm not denying evolution. It's just one of the possibilities.
Ross: It's the only possibility, Phoebe.
Phoebe: Okay, Ross, could you just open your mind, like, this much? Wasn't there a time when the brightest minds in the world believed that the Earth was flat? And up until, what, like 50 years ago, you all thought the atom was the smallest thing until you split it open and this whole mess of crap came out. Now, are you telling me that you are so unbelievably arrogant that you can't admit that there's a teeny, tiny possibility that you could be wrong about this?
Ross: There might be ... a teeny ... tiny ... possibility.
Phoebe: I can't believe you caved.
Ross: What?
Phoebe: You just abandoned your whole belief system! Before, I didn't agree with you, but at least I respected you.
Ross: But-
Phoebe: How are you gonna go into work tomorrow? How are you going to face the other science guys? How are you going to face yourself? Oh. [Ross closes his briefcase and somberly walks out of the apartment] That was fun. So who's hungry?

Phoebe: [playing guitar and singing] "Smelly cat, smelly cat, What are they feeding you?" This chick sounds good. "Smelly cat"- Gunther, be a good little boy and bring me a whiskey.