Emily: I know this seems a bit basic, but Eliza found the first decent strawberries of the year. I'm so mad at California.
Richard: Well, you'd think that rain would be good for crops. It's counter-intuitive.

Emily: What is wrong with you?
Rory: Nothing.
Emily: I asked you about that museum earlier and all you did was mumble something about hitting it.
Rory: I should have been more expansive. I'm sorry.
Emily: You've been pushing me away all evening.
Richard: Emily, please.
Emily: You asked your grandfather question after question and make polite chit-chat about the duck with the maid, what's her name, tell her it's wonderful-
Rory: Because she made it. And her name is Eliza.
Emily: I told her to make it. You're enjoying duck because I requested duck.
Rory: Well, it was a great duck, Grandma. Kudos on the duck.

Emily: We have a contract.
Rory: A contract?
Emily: We pay for Yale. You come to dinner every Friday night and you act pleasantly and decently.
Rory: You're right, Grandma. We do have a contract. But it's to come to dinner. Period. There's no agreement on how vivacious or bubbly I have to be.
Emily: You need to act like you.
Rory: I am.
Emily: This isn't you.
Rory: Look, Grandma, you know what you did.
Richard: Rory, please sit down.
Rory: I mean, what did you expect? Ten Acropolis postcards and I forget the fact that you broke up Mom and Luke? Now, I respect our contract. And I will continue to come every Friday night and eat dinner with you. But I won't guarantee an attitude that will please you. Excuse me.
Emily: You are certainly not excused, we're not through.
Rory: We have had dessert, I'll skip the port. Good night.
Richard: Rory.
Rory: Good night, Grandpa. I'll see you in a week.

Lorelai: Okay, well. If he's that important to you, I should probably, you know, meet him again, under different circumstances.
Rory: Right.
Lorelai: Everything all buttoned and zipped.
Rory: You will, I promise.

Lorelai: [answers phone] Hello?
Richard: Lorelai, it's your father.
Lorelai: Well, hello there, my father. What can I do for you?
Richard: Well, you can take a more serious tone, for starters.
Lorelai: Oh. [British accent] Hello, my father.
Richard: Lorelai.
Lorelai: Oh, sorry. I thought the British thing made it pretty serious.

Lane: Luke, my cheeseburger and fries up yet?
Luke: How would I know? What am I, a food psychic? What, do you want to know how the grapefruit crop's gonna be this year? Hold on, I'm getting a message from a kumquat from beyond the grave.
Lane: Okay, I'll go see for myself.

Rory: Oh, thank God. I am starving. I have been dreaming about Luke's cheeseburgers for a month.
Lane: How's the inventory coming?
Rory: Perfect. I have a great system going. This is my "to be written down" pile, my "already written down" pile, and this is my pile of books that I have seen and now have to buy.
Lane: That's a big pile.
Rory: Yep.
Lane: Bigger than the other two piles.
Rory: Yep.
Lane: This job must be costing you a fortune.
Rory: Yep.

Rory: Oh, my God. What is that thing?
Lane: Sorry. I should have warned you.
Rory: This is disgusting. This is from Luke's?
Lane: Yeah, he's been a little off his game lately.
Rory: Off his game? It's like Tiger Woods made this thing.

Lane: Luke's been in a mood.
Rory: And he's taking it out on the cheeseburgers?
Lane: It's been awful. Everything's either been burnt or dropped. He's absolutely miserable. He just mopes and growls and stomps around. He throws customers out the door.
Rory: Geez.
Lane: I'm assuming his mood might have something to do with a certain someone who's been spending a lot of her time at Weston's lately.
Rory: Oh, poor, sad Luke.
Lane: Poor, sad tips.
Rory: Listen, I have to get something to eat. You want to run over to Al's with me?
Lane: Can't. If Luke's left alone too long, he might burn the place down.

Lorelai: Well, is it bad, is it good, am I screwed? What do you think?
Richard: Philip and I have thoroughly toured the property, and with the exception of one too many garden gnomes, we have found it to be in top shape.
Lorelai: Really?
Richard: Yes. I've also reviewed your policy, and while I tip my hat to the criminal genius who convinced you to sign it, I find it appalling.
Lorelai: I knew the name Sheisty McSheisterson should have tipped me off.