Rachel: I have an idea. Why don't we all pitch in 50 bucks, we'll pool our money together and then if we win, we'll split it.
Phoebe: That's a great idea.
Ross: No, thanks.
Phoebe: You don't want to win the lottery?
Ross: Sure I do. I also want to be king of my own country and find out what happened to Amelia Earhart.
Chandler: Still on Amelia Earhart?
Ross: The woman just vanished!

Monica: How do you know she's gonna start talking?
Rachel: Well, when I talk to her, I almost feel like she understands what I'm saying.
Chandler: Kind of like Joey.
Joey: What's that now?

Phoebe: I hope I win.
Monica: Well, it doesn't really matter. You're both wishing for the same thing, right?
Joey: I can't tell you what I'm wishing for, or else, you know, it won't come true.
Monica: Right. But we know what you're wishing for.
Joey: I can't really say.
Monica: I understand. But you're wishing for what we think, aren't you?
Joey: I'm not really comfortable with these questions!

Monica: Phoebe, we lost half the tickets.
Phoebe: So what? Monica, we have the winning ticket. My psychic said I was gonna win, remember?
Ross: Weird your psychic didn't mention anything about the scary pigeon.
Phoebe: As a matter of fact, she said that's how I'm going to die. So excuse me for being a little skittish.

Rachel: Okay. Okay. Gleba. Gleba. Gleba. Gleba! Oh, here it is. "The fleshy, spore-bearing inner mass of a certain fungi."
Ross: She's gonna be a scientist.

Joey: Hey, that is so great about the job.
Chandler: Thanks, man.
Joey: And I'd like to think I had something to do with it.
Chandler: Oh, really? Why?
Joey: Well, before with the wishbone. I didn't wish we would win the lottery. I wished you'd get the job.
Chandler: Oh, yeah? Listen, don't tell Monica. She'll rip your heart right out.
Joey: Oh, yeah.

Rachel: Ross, just keep making your jokes. How are you gonna feel if we actually do win?
Ross: Uh, you're not gonna win.
Rachel: Oh, I know. I know the odds are against us but somebody has to win, and it could be us. And then how you gonna feel? You know, we're gonna be all like, "Everybody, let's take our helicopters up to the Cape." And you're gonna be all, like, "Oh, I can't, guys. I'll have to meet you up there. I gotta gas up the Hyundai."
Ross: Okay, I've heard myself on tape, and I sound nothing like that.

Steve: Chandler, hi. I'm sure you've heard we filled the three positions. We just felt that with your maturity and experience you wouldn't be happy being someone's assistant.
Chandler: Well, no, no, no, no, no. I'd love to be somebody's assistant. Answering phones getting coffee, I live for that stuff. And I'm not too mature. Farts, boobies, butt cracks.
Steve: Chandler, you were the strongest person in the program. We're offering you the position of junior copywriter.
Chandler: Me? That guy who just said, "butt cracks"?
Steve: Yes, that's right. We're excited about the level of sophistication you'll be bringing to the job.

Joey: Seriously, Ross, you don't want in on this?
Ross: No. Do you know what your odds are of winning the lottery? I mean, you have a better chance of being struck by lightning 42 times.
Chandler: Yes, but there's six of us, so we'd only have to get struck 7 times.
Joey: I like those odds!

Monica: God, look at all these tickets. It's so exciting. I haven't won anything since sixth grade.
Chandler: Pie-eating contest?
Monica: Oh, you assume because I was heavy that's the only way I could win something?
Chandler: No, I saw a picture of you covered in blueberries.
Monica: That was a good day.