Phoebe: [playing guitar and singing] It wasn't just that she was fat, The woman smelled like garbage- Everyone! [playing guitar and singing] It wasn't just that she was fat, The woman smelled like garbage.
Classy, huh?

Chandler: Hi, Chandler Bing. I have a reservation.
Receptionist: Welcome to the Chestnut Inn, Mr. Bing. So where are you joining us from?
Chandler: New York.
Ross: The Big Apple.
Chandler: I'm sorry. He's a little bit wound up. We had to stop at every maple-candy stand on the way here.
Ross: I ate all my gifts for everybody.
Receptionist: I'm sorry, Mr. Bing, there's no record of your reservation in the computer.
Chandler: Well, that's impossible. Can you check again, please.
Ross: Check again, please.

Ross: What'd you get?
Chandler: USA Today.
Ross: Nice. Put it with the others.
Chandler: And I also got two more apples.
Ross: We're four short of a bushel!

Ross: God, I feel so alive. I love being in the country!
Chandler: Also, got these great salt and pepper shakers from the restaurant.
Ross: That's not cool.
Chandler: Dude, none of this is cool.
Ross: Look, Chandler, you have to find the line between stealing and taking what the hotel owes you. For example: A hair dryer, no, no, no. But shampoos and conditioners, yes, yes, yes. Now, the salt shaker is off limits. Ah, but, the salt... I wish I'd thought this through.

Chandler: I think I get what you mean, though. Like, the lamp is the hotel's, but the bulbs- Oh, you already got that.
Ross: Not my first time in a hotel, my friend.

Monica: I mean, you saw him do a love scene. Maybe you don't have a thing for Joey. Maybe you have a thing for Drake.
Rachel: Well- Well, it was Joey reading Drake's lines in the dream.
Monica: Of course it was. Trust me, when it comes to psychology I know what I'm talking about. I took two psych classes in college.
Rachel: Oh, you took the same class twice.
Monica: It was hard!

Monica: Phoebe, maybe I wasn't clear before. I really love listening to your music here. But my restaurant, it's sort of an upscale place.
Phoebe: Right, yeah, okay. I'll ask the butler to fetch my diamonds out of the vault.

Monica: You wanna talk about quality? Have you ever heard of a "key"? It's what some people sing in.

Phoebe: Well, at least all my songs don't taste like garlic. Yeah, there are other ingredients, Monica.

Monica: Oh, thank God, it's just you. I thought someone was swinging a bag of cats against the wall.
Phoebe: You'd better get back in that kitchen, Monica. The garlic's not gonna overuse itself.