Paris: Oh, and Lexapro is fast-acting, but side effects are weight gain and noticeable drop in sexual appetite. Of course, with Logan gone, that's moot.
Rory: Always a pleasure, Paris.

Rory: You want me to sign a lease?
Paris: Well, you are subletting from me and the last time you lived here, you just up and left in the middle of the year.
Rory: Um, you kicked me out. You moved all my stuff out in the hallway and locked the door.
Paris: Well, now you'll have a legally binding contract that will negate my ability to do that in the future.

Rory: What is this? "Rights and privileges of Logan Huntzberger or any other paramours"?
Paris: If Logan is going to be spending an enormous amount of time here, it's only fair to assess a daily tariff for water and power use.
Rory: Paris!
Paris: It's a very simple formula, based on the number of nights he spends per month at the apartment, times the approximate minutes per day he spends showering, brushing his teeth, and/or surfing the internet. And Sunday is no charge.
Logan: It's okay. I'll kick in, Paris.
Paris: Thataboy, Rockefeller.

Paris: 2002 party?
Rory: It's a theme.
Paris: How is that a theme?
Rory: It's just supposed to be funny.
Paris: I'm not laughing.
Rory: Well, you don't have to go.
Paris: Why not 2001?
Rory: It could be 2001, I guess.
Paris: Space Odyssey, that's a theme. People dress up like astronauts or apes.

Rory: Oh, so I'm applying for an oceanography fellowship?
Paris: And I might point out that the application is due by February 28.
Rory: But I know nothing about oceanography. I can't even tell you which direction the ocean is.
Paris: You apply, you get the fellowship, then you decide if you want it.
Rory: I already know I don't want it.
Paris: It's a defensive move. It's like Monopoly. Your little wheelbarrow lands on St. James Place. You think, "I don't really want St. James Place, but I don't want some other schmo to get it, so I'll stick a plastic house there." Am I getting through to you?
Rory: You're making me want to play Monopoly.

Paris: What I'm trying to say is, he's changed. You changed him. It's amazing. I'm rarely this wrong.
Rory: Well, thanks.
Paris: Don't get me wrong. Doyle was quite the ladies' man, as well. Now, he's down for the count. The other night, he wanted to play "Let's think up baby names" in bed.
Rory: Really?
Paris: Yeah. I mean, let's face it. We took two wild stallions, and we broke them.
Rory: I don't think I really "broke" Logan.
Paris: Oh, you broke him. You broke him hard. You can open the gate, and he's not going to bolt. You can kick him with a spur, and he's not going to spook. You own him.

Paris: Let's see. Gender Trouble, Judith Butler. It should be here.
Rory: Are you sure this is where you hid it?
Paris: Of course. I had an aunt Judy who loved to travel, hence the travel section. Then I used my standard covert alphabetizing system using the third letter of the author's last name, "T," followed by the third letter of the author's first name, "D." So it should be right here, after Tabin but before Thoreau. I don't understand why it's not here.
Rory: Okay, I'm gonna go check the women's studies section again, see if I can find a used copy, just in case.
Paris: Wait a minute. This whole shelf is a mess. Why is Congwen Shen before Tony Griffiths? Excuse me. You. Come over here and explain yourself.

Paris: Here. It's used, but luckily, the previous owner was a dimwit slacker who only made it through chapter one.

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.

Paris: Okay. My lucky letter opener. Used it to open the envelope conveying my acceptance to Yale four years ago. And don't look at me like I'm some kind of superstitious freak. It's just a precautionary device. If it works, great. If not, I need it to open letters anyway.