Emily: I've called several times the past few weeks and you've skillfully avoided every call.
Lorelai: No, that's not true. I've left messages on your machine.
Emily: Yes, messages. And then if I happened to pick up, you'd hang up. Or if the maid picked up, you'd ask for me, then claim you were driving through a tunnel so you might get cut off, and then you'd make garbling noises and hang up.

Emily: Are you feeling well?
Lorelai: You came all the way out here to ask me that?
Emily: Well, you've been sick these past few Friday's for dinner, so I was concerned. That's why you didn't come, right, because you were sick? So are you better? You look fine.
Lorelai: Oh, it's the makeup. I'm still... these allergies really just hit me like a ton of bricks.
Emily: I've never heard you mention allergies before.
Lorelai: I'm a silent sufferer.

Emily: Yes, it is Thanksgiving. And before you sift through the dozen or so excuses you always have on hand, let me have my say. You've missed two dinners and avoided my calls because you're mad at us about what happened at Yale. But I want you and Rory at Thanksgiving this year.
Lorelai: Mom...
Emily: If you have plans...
Lorelai: We do have plans.
Emily: Alter them. Now, there'll be other people there, so the focus won't be on you, and you may even be able to get by without saying more than "hello", "goodbye", and "pass the gravy".
Lorelai: We already have plans.
Emily: Your father and I are going out of town the next day and we'll be gone all of December, including Christmas, so it's the last chance for the family to be together for the rest of the year.
Lorelai: Look...
Emily: And I want you to remember that I am not the one who set the meeting for Rory behind your back. I want you there, Lorelai. And if you're still sick, I don't want a doctor's note. I want your doctor himself to come to my house and convince me that it's true, got it?
Lorelai: Got it.
Emily: See you tomorrow.

Madeline: That was really distracting.
Paris: Oh. Well, by all means, Madeline, you should point out to the faculty that their annoying custom of teaching is distracting you from more important things like nail filing and daydreaming about marrying Ryan Phillippe.
Louise: He's already married.
Paris: Then whatever strawhead actor isn't.

Paris: Harvard is going to be expecting Thanksgiving shelter work. They'll know I called too late and it will totally impugn my organizational skills. By the way, you know I ultimately do all these things for the good of mankind, right?
Rory: Oh, yeah.
Paris: Sometimes I don't think I come off that way.
Rory: No.
Paris: [answers phone] Hello? Yes, thanks for returning my call... Nothing? But wait, wait, wait... just stick me at any old pot. I'm small, you won't even know I'm there, I'll even bring my own ladle... Oh, now, come on, work with me here. I've got a slotted spoon... What about coffee or condiments? You got condiments covered? I'm sorry, can I speak to your supervisor? My attitude? What about your attitude? I'm trying to help people. It's Thanksgiving...

Rory: So she coldcocked you, huh?
Lorelai: She bit me, incapacitated me with her poison, and devoured me whole.
Rory: But how are we going to go to four Thanksgiving dinners?
Lorelai: It's not four, is it?
Rory: Lane's house, Sookie's, and we always stop by Luke's... that's three, and Grandma and Grandpa is four.
Lorelai: We're mad, Edie.
Rory: We're us, Edie.
Lorelai: Well, we've gotta go to my parents' or we'll be brought up on war crimes.

Lorelai: Hey, Kirk. Discover a new freaky fetish?
Kirk: What?
Rory: Nothing. You buy a cat?
Kirk: Yup. [flatly] I'm very excited.
Lorelai: You seem it. So what's all this?
Rory: I'm assuming there's nothing left in the store.
Kirk: Actually, there are a number of things left.
Rory: No, I meant you seem to be buying a lot of stuff.
Kirk: Oh, sorry. My excitement must be clouding my ability to judge comedic hyperbole.

Rory: The best laid plans.
Lorelai: Tell me about it.
Rory: How do you feel?
Lorelai: I ate tofurkey. How do you think I feel?
Rory: Tofurkier.
Lorelai: Drat that Mrs. Kim for not taking her eyes off me the whole time... it's like she was anticipating my napkin maneuver.

Sookie: Do you not see what's going on here?
Lorelai: What's that?
Sookie: That is a vat of boiling oil.
Lorelai: Really? Where's Quasimodo?
Sookie: This is not a joking matter.
Rory: What is the oil for?
Lorelai: For pouring on visigoths.
Sookie: Lorelai!
Lorelai: When else am I gonna get to use my visigoth material?

Rory: What's the oil for?
Sookie: The turkey. My beautiful, expensive, organically grown turkey.
Lorelai: I don't get it.
Sookie: A couple of days ago, Jackson asked me if he could cook the turkey. I thought he was gonna roast it, you know, stick a couple of onions around it, something simple. So I said yes, figuring that the minute he put it in the oven and leaves the kitchen, I can sneak in and give it a nice herb-bitter rub and stuff it with a pancetta-chestnut stuffing.
Lorelai: Sure, 'cause he'd never notice that.
Sookie: Exactly. Then the propane tank arrived, and the industrial burner, and the fifteen gallons of peanut oil. Then he springs it on me, "I'm gonna deep-fry a turkey".
Lorelai: Deep-fried turkey.
Rory: Interesting.
Sookie: I tried to talk him out of it, but I'd already promised and now he's excited about it.