Emily: It's like a canoe.
Lorelai: What's like a canoe?
Emily: Life.
Lorelai: Okay.
Emily: You're just paddling along in a canoe.
Lorelai: Mother, have you ever been in a canoe?
Emily: Lorelai.
Lorelai: Well, I just can't picture you in a canoe.
Emily: Your father and I have been paddling a canoe together for years. Only now, he's dropped the paddle. He just dropped it. Not only that, but now the canoe is going in circles. Without your father there, I'm paddling on my side and the canoe is spinning in circles, and the harder I paddle, the faster it spins, and it's hard work, and I'm getting tired.

Lorelai: What? Her mouth is moving. I can't hear anything. Is something wrong with my ears?
Rory: No, I don't think it's your ears, poor thing.
Lorelai: Ugh, this house is a giant Skinner box with Chippendale chairs.

Emily: The idea that two grown men hitting a tiny ball with metal sticks is the equivalent of Hamlet... ridiculous. But can I say anything? No! Because I can't agitate him.
Lorelai: It is ridiculous. Golf is really more like Richard III. They're all hunched over.

Miss Patty: I hope he gets his act together because I think they're perfect.
Babette: Yeah, but maybe the hen belongs with someone else like a penguin or an ostrich.
Kirk: I can no longer sit here and listen to this.
Miss Patty: Oh, good. Go sit over there.
Kirk: I'm sorry, but I can't in good conscience let this perverse conversation continue. Are you insinuating that a hen could mate with an ostrich? Because even ignoring the question of biological feasibility, it's completely morally reprehensible.
Babette: Oh, buzz off with your "morally reprehensible."
Kirk: How do you expect her to lay those eggs? Have you thought about that, have you?

Paris: We're in the middle of our yoga practice.
Lorelai: I didn't really imagine you guys to be the yoga types.
Doyle: It was a circuitous path that led us here.
Paris: I only signed up for the class 'cause I thought it'd help me B.S. my way through any med-school interviews when they talk about all that homeopathic, holistic, naturopathic, chiropractic, TCM, unani, ayurveda crap.
Doyle: Plus, we thought it would be funny to goof on. But now...
Paris: I guess the great cosmic goof is on us.

Rory: So, who else knows?
Lorelai: Nobody. That's it. Well, you and the Quickie Mart guy.
Rory: You told the Quickie Mart guy?
Lorelai: Well, I was upset. I was standing by the magazines. I didn't want him to think I was verklempt over Nicole Richie.

Lorelai: How are you? How's Dad? Is he up to this, you think?
Emily: Why wouldn't he be?
Lorelai: Well, Mom, he just got out of the hospital. I wonder if it's too soon.
Emily: The doctor said there's no reason he can't go back to his normal routine, as long as he doesn't do anything too strenuous. It's not as though sitting at a table, having dinner with one's family requires a great deal of effort.
Lorelai: Well.... you're right.

Emily: In the meantime, can I offer you a drink?
Lorelai: Yes. The usual: Martini up, with a twist.
Emily: Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not serving alcohol tonight.
Lorelai: [to Rory] I told you there was something wrong with my ears. [to Emily] What?
Emily: I'm serving nonalcoholic cocktails only.
Lorelai: There's no such thing as a nonalcoholic cocktail.
Emily: There most certainly is. It's called a mocktail.
Lorelai: You're serving mocktails?
Emily: Yes. I can offer you a Shirley Temple or a Roy Rogers.
Rory: I'll have a Roy Rogers.
Lorelai: Why not a "Howdy Doody" or a "Captain Kangaroo"?
Emily: Lorelai, stop being so selfish. We're doing this for your father. After you've had open-heart surgery, alcohol is strictly verboten.

Richard: If you will excuse me, I have to get back to my golf.
Emily: Richard.
Richard: Please. I know I've missed Jacklin's bogey on the 16th. I'm not missing his putt on the 17th. That's a famous putt, Emily.
Emily: Wait, you're watching an old golf game?
Richard: Well, it's the last singles match of the '69 Ryder cup. Jacklin, Nicklaus... the concession!
Emily: I can't believe you're watching an old golf game instead of eating...
Richard: Fish?
Emily: Dinner with your family. You already know how it's going to turn out.
Richard: Well, that never stopped people going to see Hamlet.

Emily: It sounds like grandma's going full steam ahead with this whole party-planning thing.
Lorelai: I know.
Emily: She's going to kill 400 Cornish game hens. Probably with her own bare hands.
Lorelai: Your grandfather just had a heart attack. Your grandmother is not drinking. This isn't exactly the ideal time to tell them their only daughter's marriage is over.
Rory: I know.
Lorelai: I don't know what she'll do. She's gone bananas. For all I know, she'll throw a molotov mocktail at me.
Rory: I know, but only you can save the Cornish game hens. Save the Cornish game hens!