Zach: What's wrong with the order?
Kirk: Grilled-cheese platter comes with french fries and pickles.
Zach: Which I'm looking at.
Kirk: Look a little closer, my friend, and you'll see that the juice from the pickles has leached over to the grilled cheese, rendering it sodden and inedible.
Zach: Well...
Kirk: I don't recall ordering grilled cheese au jus.
Zach: Pickles have juice, dude. It's like a main law of nature.
Kirk: Ah, but that's where Lane knew how to prevent this culinary catastrophe. Prior to serving the dish, she would use the french fries to build a tiny dam-
Zach: Dude, I get it.
Luke: It's all going to the same place inside that dark, strange body of yours, Kirk. Now eat it.

Emily: I couldn't figure it out. And your father was absolutely no help.
Lorelai: All we need to do is- Mom, you're doing it again.
Emily: I'm looking at the screen.
Lorelai: I know, but you're, like, hovering.
Emily: I'm not hovering, Lorelai. "Hovering" means you're elevated off the ground. Do I look like I'm elevating?

Richard: Oh, hello, Lorelai.
Lorelai: Hi, Dad. Nice threads. Having lunch with Tony Soprano?
Emily: Don't encourage him.

Lorelai: Mom, if you're gonna go this slowly, you should really put your hazards on.
Emily: Excuse me, but after I almost got that ridiculous DWI, I can ill afford a speeding ticket. And a Jaguar is an invitation to be pulled over.
Lorelai: Right, if you're speeding. You're driving like you're in a parade.
Emily: Oh, hush.
Lorelai: Mom, seriously, by the time we get there, the wedding will be over. The guests will have gone home. North Carolina will be under a sea of water from melting ice caps.

Emily: So, Rory, what do you have lined up postgraduation?
Lorelai: Oh, I'm setting up interviews at different newspapers. The Seattle Times, the Detroit Free Press, San Francisco Chronicle.
Emily: Well, I'm not sure about the Seattle paper, and the Chronicle is dreadful, but the Detroit paper is quite reputable.
Lorelai: You know what else a reputable paper is? The New York Times, the Boston Globe, the Hartford Courant.
Rory: Yes, and only a short drive away from Stars Hollow.
Lorelai: Oh, well, that never occurred to me, but now that you mention it, yeah.

Lane: When it comes to extended family, Zach and I don't have much. I've got my mom, but she's not so much a family member as she is a probation officer.
Zach: Yeah, and my old man ran off when I was like 10. No note. No nothing. So I got the feeling he didn't want me to follow him.
Luke: Uh-huh. So, you guys need money or something?
Zach: Lane and I would like you to be godfather to our twins.
Luke: Oh, really? Godfather?
Lane: We just want to make sure we have a strong parental person for our boys.

Rory: Big menus.
Lorelai: Yeah, that's a good sign.
Rory: Oh, I love when they show pictures of the food.
Lorelai: I would be upset if I was that fried chicken, though. That picture makes her look fat.

Emily: I smell cigarette smoke. This is one of those places that still allows cigarettes, isn't it?
Lorelai: Mom, if you'd prefer to wait in the car, we can bring food to you there.
Emily: That would be foolish. The reason why I refused to go to the drive-through is because I won't allow eating in my car.

Lorelai: Honey, just put it in the shower with the steam if mom ever finishes shellacking her face.
Emily: heard that, Lorelai. I'm simply washing up.
Lorelai: Mom, the resort is 20 minutes away. Why do you have to wash up here?
Emily: I can't very well arrive at a luxurious resort smelling of bad shellfish and covered with the grime of the road.
Lorelai: "The road." Who are you, Willie Nelson?

Emily: Well, I hope the resort will let me change my times. I'll pick the two of you up at 11 sharp tomorrow. Be out front. Of course, I didn't bring a thing to wear to a wedding. Luckily, they're going Bohemian, so it won't really matter.