Rory: This is all your fault, you know?
Lorelai: Why?
Rory: Because you told me I could do anything.
Lorelai: You can.
Rory: Apparently, I can't, and I have two rejection letters and a humiliating phone call to prove it. Do you know what the worst part of this is? I thought I was so in at the Times. I was just saying that I wasn't gonna get it because I was trying to be humble, but I was so not humble. I was so cocky. I was already picturing myself working there, chatting up Bill Keller in the elevator and running down the street for a little quick lunch with Maureen Dowd and filing my first story and seeing my first byline. I already had the outfit picked out for my New York Times picture I.D.

Luke: Okay, here you go ladies. Little hot water for you, Miss Patty. And for you, Babette, a bowl of Shredded Wheat.
Babette: It's for my throat, it give it a rougher quality, a husk sound sorta like Debbie Herry meets Ethel Merman.

Rory: Mark Twain.
Lorelai: Hmm?
Rory: Well, Mark Twain had to work as a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi before he became a successful writer. And if he'd never had that experience, he never would have written Huckleberry Finn.
Lorelai: Which is one of your favorite books.
Rory: Remember when I made you have my 12th birthday at the Mark Twain Museum in Hartford?
Lorelai: I thought one day I was gonna find you on a raft made out of empty milk cartons, sailing down the Housatonic river.