Rory: Uh, Paris, what are these cards that fell out of your jacket?
Paris: [o.s.] Oh, yeah, those are notes for tonight.
Rory: Notes?
Paris: Yeah, just some reference points. You know, subjects to bring up in case the conversation lags.
Rory: Well, can I suggest that you leave this one about the Spanish Inquisition out?
Paris: Not very romantic?
Rory: Not really.

Emily: Now, you listen to me. I don't care if she demeans me and looks down on me. I don't care if she thinks I've tarnished the Gilmore name. I don't care if she thinks I'm the Whore of Babylon. I've long ago given up any hope of getting into her psychotic good graces. But that woman is horrible and selfish, and she cannot get away with this. I won't let her.
Richard: That's my mother you're talking about.
Emily: Yes, it is. Your mother, the one who stepped in without being asked and single-handedly wrecked everything.
Richard: Emily, what is this about?
Emily: She'll never come back here, you know.
Richard: Who, Mother? Of course she will.
Emily: Lorelai.
Richard: What?
Emily: If she gets that money, Lorelai will never come back here. She won't have to.

Paris: God, this is so weird. I can't stop smiling.
Rory: Good, then it's the perfect time to talk about our overtaxed peasants.
Paris: Oh, let them eat cake.

Rory: I thought you were gonna have tea today.
Lorelai: We did. We finished.
Rory: You finished early?
Lorelai: Yeah, well, once you're done with those little sandwiches there's no reason to pretend you like tea anymore.
Rory: Oh, I totally understand.

Paris: I wanted to tell you again that I had so much fun last night.
Tristin: After five messages on my answering machine I kind of got that impression.
Paris: Too much. Sorry.
Tristin: No, forget it. It was cute.
Paris: Maybe we could do it again sometime. A different movie, of course, but the same basic plan.

Emily: Everyone's awfully quiet tonight.
Lorelai: Sorry, Mom, I'm just tired.
Rory: Me, too. School.
Lorelai: Work.
Rory: Life.
Lorelai: Dig it, man.
Rory: Peace out, Humphrey.
Emily: Mystery.

Richard: I am sorry I'm late, but I come bearing wonderful news.
Emily: Siri, bring Mr. Gilmore a plate.
Richard: I just got off the phone.
Emily: Would you like to change first?
Richard: No, I'm fine.
Emily: Siri, Mr. Gilmore's hungry.
Richard: Emily, I'm perfectly capable of putting a napkin on my lap.
Emily: All right, I'm sorry.

Rory: Grandpa says I remind him of her.
Lorelai: That is the biggest compliment that can be wrenched out of Grumpy McFarlane, believe me.
Rory: I hope she likes me.
Lorelai: She'll love you.
Rory: I hope she and Grandma get along.
Lorelai: She'll love you.

Paris: What's up with you and Tristin?
Rory: What do you mean?
Paris: You seem weird around each other.
Rory: Well, no weirder than usual.
Paris: I disagree.
Rory: You usually do.
Paris: I just think it's strange that you didn't want to be queen.
Rory: You know, not all girls want to be queen, Paris. Even Barbie ended up being a stewardess.
Paris: Okay, if you say so.

Paris: Read my manifesto. I want your thoughts.
Rory: First thought: Lose the word "manifesto".
Paris: Too cabin-in-the-woods?
Rory: Don't open your mail.
Paris: Right. How about "doctrine"?
Rory: Better.