Paris: Ever since word leaked out about me and Asher, every faculty member over fifty thinks I'm easy.
Rory: Paris, I don't think Prady's hitting on you.
Paris: You are so naive. He's practically licking his lips. You sleep with one old guy, and suddenly you're Catherine Zeta-Jones.

Lorelai: Mm, God it smells good.
Rory: I love a good steak on a stick.
Richard: Me, too.
Lorelai: We should form a club.
Rory: Steak-On-A-Stick club.
Richard: We could have t-shirts made up.
Rory: Grandpa, I've never seen you wear a t-shirt.
Richard: Well, I've just never found a proper occasion.
Lorelai: Hmm. To the proper occasion.
Richard: Ah, I'll drink to that.

Emily: I knew I smelled something, you're barbecuing!
Richard: So what?
Emily: So what? The agreement was the girls have drinks with you and dinners with me!
Richard: We are having drinks. Drinks and appetizers.
Emily: Those are not appetizers! Those are skewers!
Lorelai: Little skewers.
Rory: Little tiny skewers.
Emily: This is not tiny!
Lorelai: Mom, that's mine!
Emily: This is a main course and a cheap way of cheating me out of my dinner.
Richard: You are the most paranoid woman I've ever met.
Emily: I highly doubt that.

Emily: You're full.
Lorelai: No!
Emily: He can't stick to a simple agreement! He makes deals all the time in business, but "drinks there, dinner here", somehow that's too difficult for him to manage.
Rory: He was just-
Emily: He was trying to upstage me. He was trying to make his part of the evening the "fun" part. He's a child. A spoiled four-year-old. I should take his dump truck away and send him to bed without supper. Or, as he calls it, appetizers.

Rory: Grandma's mean.
Lorelai: If it flew, swam or crawled on this earth, we just ate it.

Rory: [on the phone] So, you're off the hook.
Lorelai: Off the hook, for what?
Rory: Friday night. Grandma and Grandpa are having a party for their Yale alumni friends.
Lorelai: Really? This is news.
Rory: So you're free as a bird.
Lorelai: Wow, Friday night without my mother! I don't know if I can deal. You might have to come over and force-feed me pickled herring and tell me what a disappointment I am.

Rory: [on the phone] Maybe they made up.
Lorelai: They would have told us.
Rory: They didn't tell us they broke up.
Lorelai: Yes, but that's because it looked bad. They didn't tell people I was pregnant 'till my eighth month. My mother kept getting numbers for fat farms from her friends.

Dean: okay. So, we have today for your dining pleasure a choice of sandwiches. All fairly fresh, though slightly dented so as to afford me the eighty percent employee discount that Taylor throws in with the paycheck.
Rory: He's a heck of a humanitarian, that Taylor.
Dean: Ah, we have a battered chicken salad, a bruised tuna salad, a ham that survived the creamed corn assault of 2004, and something grey.
Rory: Toss that.
Dean: Gotcha.
Rory: Well, this is a very nice spread you've assembled here.
Dean: Well, when you're dating an Ivy League girl, you have to pull out all the stops. Chip pieces?
Rory: Yes, please.

Lorelai: Oh my God, what are you making?
Luke: Lamb and artichoke stew, penne with pesto and potatoes, roasted garlic with rosemary focaccia, tomatoes stuffed with bread crumbs and goat cheese, and ricotta cheesecake with amaretto cookies to go with your coffee.
Lorelai: You're the perfect man.
Luke: Thank you.
Lorelai: I used to think it was Kelsey Grammer, but it's not. It's you.
Luke: Finally, I'm one-upping Grammer.

Lorelai: It's bubbling and turning brown.
Luke: It's fine.
Lorelai: Well, what constitutes sticking?
Luke: You can't ruin it.
Lorelai: I can, I have powers. Once the Barefoot Contessa was making a souffle and when it fell, she looked out the TV and said, "Gilmore, was that you?"