Monica: You know what? You can play with my dollhouse.
Phoebe: Really?
Monica: Any time you want. When I was young all I wanted was to play with this dollhouse. But no. It was to be looked at, never played with.
Chandler: My grandmother used to say that exact same thing to me.

Phoebe: Maybe it's so big because the house was built on radioactive waste.
Chandler: And is this in case the house sneezes?
Phoebe: No. No, that's the ghost for the attic.
Monica: I don't want a ghost.
Phoebe: Well, nobody wants a ghost. But you've got one because the house is sitting on an ancient lndian burial ground.
Ross: Wait a minute. The house was built on radioactive waste and an ancient lndian burial ground? That would never happen.
Phoebe: Okay, obviously you don't know much about the U.S. government.

Joanna: Rachel, I need the Versace invoice. You don't work for me.
Rachel: Joanna, this is my friend Chandler Bing. Joanna.
Joanna: Bing? That's a great name.
Chandler: Thanks. It's Gaelic for, "Thy turkey's done."

Phoebe: So I'm here, ready to play. I brought a bunch of stuff for the house, so check it out.
Monica: What's this?
Phoebe: That's a dog. Every house should have a dog.
Monica: Not one that can pee on the roof.

Lauren: I used to schedule my classes so I could watch Dr. Drake Ramoray on Days of our Lives.
Joey: Get out of here. Really?
Lauren: Absolutely. But then they dropped you down that elevator shaft.
Joey: They gave me the shaft, all right.

Rachel: What's this?
Phoebe: The licorice room. You can eat all the furniture. And when guests come over, they can stay on the Tootsie Roll-away bed.

Joanna: This isn't how I was hoping this would end, but I guess I have to appreciate your honesty.
Chandler: Yeah, well okay.
Joanna: So-
Chandler: Well, this was great. I'll give you a call. We should do it again sometime.

Chandler: You're telling me this actress person is the only woman you ever wanted who didn't want you back?
Joey: Yeah. Oh, my God. Is this what it's like to be you?

Monica: All right, Phoebe, you know what? That's it. That's it. No dinosaurs, no ghosts, no giant dogs, okay? They're not the right size, they're not Victorian and they just don't go.
Phoebe: Okay, fine. Come, dinosaur. We're not welcome in the house of no imagination.
Ross: Uh, Pheebs, while we're hovering around the subject, I have to say that dinosaurs, they don't go, "ruff!"
Phoebe: The little ones do.

Monica: Come on, Rach, when a guy says he'll call, it doesn't mean he's going to call. This never happened to you?
Rachel: Well, they always called.
Monica: Bite me.