Paris: Well, it's true. The Beats' writing was completely self-indulgent. I have one word for Jack Kerouac: Edit.
Jess: It was not self-indulgent. The Beats believed in shocking people stirring things up.
Paris: They believed in drugs, booze, and petty crime.
Rory: Well, then, you could say they expose you to a world you wouldn't have otherwise known. Isn't it what great writing's about?
Paris: That wasn't great writing. It was the National Enquirer of the '50s.
Jess: You're cracked.
Paris: Typical guy response. Worship Kerouac and Bukowski. God forbid you pick up anything by Jane Austen.

Dean: Since your mother's going to be gone, maybe I'd come over.
Rory: What? I was thinking of pulling kind of a hermit thing tonight.
Dean: Why?
Rory: I don't know. J.D. Salinger seems to dig it.
Dean: You don't want me to come over?
Rory: No, I just... I almost never get the house all to myself, and I thought with my mom gone I can finally do my laundry exactly the way I like it. You know, not separating into whites and colors, but the colors separated into darks, mediums, and lights. With a separate pile for white T-shirts and T-shirts with some kind of writing on them like "Rock Star", "Evil", or "Kafka Was Here".
Dean: You want to be alone to do laundry?
Rory: And watch TV, and eat the Indian food I love but my mom hates the smell of, and go to bed early, and...

Emily: You've been pouting and sulking and sighing-
Lorelai: I have not been sighing.
Emily: ...rolling your eyes, mumbling.
Lorelai: Well, that's how I detox.
Emily: Ever since we got here, you've made it your mission to be as miserable as possible.
Lorelai: That's not true.
Emily: It's completely true. And if you don't care about hurting my feelings, maybe you care that you're wasting all your relaxing time acting like a petulant 4-year-old.
Lorelai: I'm sorry.
Emily: Do you want me to try to get myself another room?
Lorelai: No.
Emily: I saw a supply closet down the hall. Maybe my masseur could finish me in there.
Lorelai: Okay, Mom.
Emily: Or perhaps I could roll myself against a stucco wall eliminate the need for a masseur altogether.

Emily: I still can't get over it. It really was mud. I mean, I know it said mud bath but I didn't really think they meant a real mud bath. And the odd thing is, I should've been more repulsed by it. Sitting in a tub of hot dirt, which is basically what mud is, should have made me ill, and yet, I really enjoyed it. Did yours have twigs? Mine had twigs. And when I asked the woman about them, she told me they were there because of the healing qualities...

Rory: God, how much food is in there? This could feed 12.
Jess: Excuse me, I've seen you eat.
Rory: Fine, six.

Lorelai: Paris looked a little green this morning.
Rory: Yeah, she had a sugar-carb hangover of monumental proportions.
Lorelai: People don't realize it, but it takes years of training to eat the way we do.
Rory: Don't I know it.

Jess: I see you brought a little something, too. Is that ice cream? That's so nice. A tiny little ice-cream package just big enough for two. Hey, are you guys gonna feed each other? 'Cause that's just so darn cute. Oh. You're doing that towering-over-me thing. I tell you, you've really got that down. It helps that you're 12 feet tall. But this Frankenstein scowl really adds to the whole-
Rory: Jess!
Jess: Okay, I'm going. Look, man, I really was just dropping off some food so don't get all West Side Story on me, okay?

Lorelai: [on the phone] Go ahead, Mom. I can hear you now.
Emily: I wanted to know if you'd like a gift certificate for a weekend at the Birchgrove Spa.
Lorelai: Are you serious?
Emily: I bid on it at the DAR Symphony Fundraiser, and I won.
Lorelai: Birchgrove? That's supposed to be an amazing place. Why don't you go?
Emily: Oh, I've never had any real desire to go to a spa.
Lorelai: Why did you bid on it, then?
Emily: It was for charity. I had to bid on something. I certainly didn't want another portrait of George Washington. I've got four in the attic already.

Lorelai: [on the phone] So, then we're all confirmed. Great. Thanks so much for your help. Okay. Bye. [hangs up] Yes.
Rory: That was an evil "yes".
Lorelai: Not an evil "yes". It's a "Yes, I'm pretty, but, hello, I'm smart" kind of a "yes".
Rory: Oh, my mistake.
Lorelai: So here's the deal. I go into my facial just as my mother is finishing her Salt Glow which will end 10 minutes after I've hit my scalp treatment which puts me in the Watsu massage pool six minutes into her back facial. In fact, the day is so well planned, I won't see her until dinner which will be cut short by the food poisoning I plan to contract.
Rory: You are 12 and disgusting.
Lorelai: I am trapped and desperate.
Rory: You really think you can avoid Grandma the entire weekend?
Lorelai: Hey, I'm nothing if not a great organizer.

Lorelai: Now, let's talk about what you're gonna do tonight. Throwing a party, I hope. Inviting hundreds of bikers and lowlifes who are gonna trash the place.
Rory: I am going to do laundry, watch TV, order Indian food, and go to bed early.
Lorelai: And then come the bikers and lowlifes who are gonna trash the place?
Rory: I may even fall asleep on the couch with the TV on.
Lorelai: When do the bikers and lowlifes get to trash the place?
Rory: You're all packed.
Lorelai: Rory, you have to do something bad when Mommy's out of town. It's the law. You've seen Risky Business, right? Now, I'm not asking for a prostitution ring but how about a floating craps game or something?
Rory: I'll see what I can do.
Lorelai: I'd greatly appreciate it.