Robin: Hey, guys.
Lily: Where's the poop, Robin?
Robin: How do you do that? You are like a bomb-sniffing dog, except with poop. You are a poop-sniffing dog.
Marshall: I think that's just called a dog.
Lily: Where's the poop, Robin?

Marshall: Oh. Wow. Back already. How was flying solo? And by "solo," I mean so low that you got shot down.
Barney: Look, I didn't get shot down. Trust me, I'll get the yes. Barney Stinson always gets the yes. This is all part of the plan. After initial contact, I'm now in the ignoring phase.
Lily: Barney, why can't you just take a girl out to dinner like a normal person?
Barney: Golden rule: I do not buy dinner to get the yes. Dinner's a very intimate activity. It requires a level of connection and eye contact that sex just doesn't. Call me old-fashioned, but I need to have sex with a girl at least three times before I'll even consider having dinner with her.

Ted: Actually, I think I'm gonna say no.
Robin: No? Are you kidding me?
Lily: But designing a building in New York City is your lifelong dream.
Ted: I do not want to work for GNB again. Those guys are evil. No offense, Marshall.
Marshall: Dude, none taken. Yes, GNB is, the Empire from Star Wars. But the Death Star's gonna get built either way. And don't you think the architect of the Death Star is pretty psyched to have that thing on his space resume? I mean, yes, his design was flawed in the sense that a single bullet fired into a particular vent would explode the whole thing.
Ted: For all we know, that was the contractor's fault.
Marshall: But that won't happen on your watch. You know why? Because you're Ted Mosby! And you are gonna design the most beautiful, ventless, Rebel-proof building in Manhattan, with clearly marked emergency stops for every trash compactor on the detention level.