Lane: Okay, just one more time.
Rory: I have been telling you this story for an hour. It doesn't get dirty.
Lane: I can't help it. I'm obsessed. I'm totally living vicariously through you.
Rory: Why? You got kissed last weekend. Remember? You told me. That guy your parents set you up with. The one with the Lincoln Continental. What's his name? Patrick Cho.
Lane: Okay. Let's do a little compare and contrast here. You get kissed on the mouth by a cute, cool, sexy guy you really like and I get kissed on the forehead by a Theology major in a Members Only jacket who truly believes rock music leads to hard drugs.
Rory: Fair enough. You can live through me. But just remember that I have no idea what I'm doing.
Lane: I'm well aware of that.

Rory: Did you read that article in the newspaper about the polar ice caps melting?
Lorelai: Yeah, yeah. Ooh, big deal.
Rory: Fine, you pick the subject.
Lorelai: Okay, great. I was watching General Hospital the other day and they have a new Lucky because the old Lucky went to play something with a real name. So, the old Lucky had this girlfriend, Liz who thought that he died in a fire. So then they bring on this new Lucky and you're like, "Okay, I know that's not the old Lucky" because the new Lucky has more hair gel issues. Still, Liz was so upset about his supposed death that you could not wait to see them kiss, you know?
Rory: When do you have time to watch General Hospital?
Lorelai: Okay, let's get back to the point. What do you think about the whole Liz-Lucky kissing thing?
Rory: I think they're actors being paid to play a part so it's nice that they're living up to their obligations.

Lorelai: Are you crazy? You can't watch Willy Wonka without massive amounts of junk food. It's not right. I won't allow it. We're going in. [Rory stands still] Rory, it's fine.
Rory: It's too weird.
Lorelai: I'm gonna have to meet him eventually.
Rory: Okay, how about next year?
Lorelai: I'm going to be so cool in there, you will mistake me for Shaft.
Rory: There will be no interrogation.
Lorelai: I swear.
Rory: No kissing noises. No stories from my childhood. No referring to Chicago as ChiTown. No James Dean jokes. No father-with-a-shotgun stares. No Nancy Walker impressions.
Lorelai: Oh, come on.