Lorelai: It's the perfect gift for Luke. Fine fancy jam from France.
Rory: Fine fancy jam from Jackson's pantry.
Lorelai: I don't know what you're talking about. I am looking right here at this beautiful hand-crafted label and it says "Fruits de la Terre."
Rory: You didn't even spellcheck to make sure you got the French right.
Lorelai: Yes, well, I think it adds an authentic touch. See, in my world, the person who made this jam was an illiterate orphan, Sochelle.
Rory: As in Sochelle Crab.
Lorelai: Yes, exactly. Sochelle was born by the sea, or so said the note left in the bassinet when the nuns found her on the steps of Notre Dame.
Rory: Oh, good, there are nuns.
Lorelai: Every sad story needs nuns. Anyhow, Sochelle had nothing - no father, no mother, no friends, no education. All she had was a burning desire to make great jam, and now she's the most successful jamstress in Paris.

Lorelai: In fact, I have here in my hand a schedule of all the activities we are going to partake in over this week, the final week of Rory Gilmore's life before she enters the ivy-covered hallowed halls of Yale University.
Rory: Schedule, please.
Lorelai: Okay. Today we get these presents out to our friends and then we hit the mall.
Rory: Got it.
Lorelai: Tomorrow we get an early start and we hit three of the crappier movies that are out.
Rory: And then we have dinner at Grandma's.
Lorelai: Which I will conveniently not put down on my list in the hopes that that magically goes away. Okay, the next day we hit New York, see your fancy art galleries, hit the Strand.
Rory: Yes.
Lorelai: Pizza at John's. Sunday, pick up all the stuff you need for school, and then there's a barbecue at Sookie's. Monday is mani/pedi, facial, haircut, go to the psychic, and stock up for Tuesday, the day of all days - Godfather I, II, and III, with extra showings of the Sofia death scene over and over as long as the Mallomars hold out.
Rory: The perfect day!
Lorelai: I agree.
Rory: And I think we have just enough of the biscotti that we brought back from Milan to last us the rest of the week.

Lorelai: Oh my God, your bed feels good.
Rory: Do not get comfortable. I will sleep on top of you if I have to.
Lorelai: Oh man, smell this.
Rory: What?
Lorelai: I forgot that pillows don't have to smell like feet. You know, I have to say, I think it's good I did this hostel thing in my thirties, and I'll tell you why.
Rory: [hugs her clothes] I missed you, I missed you all!
Lorelai: If I had done it in my twenties or teens, I would've been naive enough to think that hostels were exotic and romantic. But once you're in your thirties, you've lived enough to know they're gross and should be avoided at all costs.