Luke: Who's that young thing?
Claire: Wow, what's up with the outfit, Mod Squad?
Phil: Oh, yeah, I'm, uh I'm showing a house to someone.
Claire: Oh.
Phil: I'd rather not say who it is.
Claire: I totally get that.
Phil: It's Chris Martin from Coldplay.
Claire: [gasps] Come on, really?
Phil: It's not a big deal.
Claire: Says the man who spent most of last night sewing that flower onto his jeans.
Phil: Okay, it's a really big deal. I'm meeting the man who sings how I feel.

Claire: Yes, his music is so sanguine.
Alex: Eh, closer.

Woman: I'm going into labor.
Judge: Ma'am, Ma'am, everything's gonna be all right. Bailiff, help Juror 11 with anything she needs, and bring in the next alternate.
Jay: Uh, as her Lamaze coach, I think I should probably be out in the hall with...

Gloria: Why don't you go over and tell him that you're a fan? Maybe he can give you some advice.
Manny: No, no, I wouldn't want to bother him. He's notoriously private. He writes in a hollowed-out tree somewhere in Montana.

Manny: Uh, excuse me, Mr. Anvilmaker?
Sam Anvilmaker: Let me guess I'm the reason you want to be a writer.
Manny: Yeah, actually. Your first play changed the way that I looked at-
Sam Anvilmaker: Look, listen, kid. I'm not here to collect panties with phone numbers on them. I'm here to experience the cold absurdity that is being alive. So go and find someone else to venerate.
Manny: Oh, uh. Sorry for bothering you.
Sam Anvilmaker: Here's a writing tip show me you're sorry for bothering me. Don't tell me.
Gloria: Okay, let's take a picture of the two new best friends. Come together.
Sam Anvilmaker: I should never have left my tree.

Cameron: We both don't need a pair. We can just share these.
Mitchell: And what if I want my own?
Cameron: [scoffs] We share everything. We share a toothbrush.
Mitchell: We do?

Cameron: [aside to camera] Every week, Scott Hunter, the host of "I Beg Your Garden," selects an unsuspecting couple at a home store.
Mitchell: Yeah, he taps them on the shoulder and says, "I beg your garden."
Cameron: [screaming] What?! Oh, my God! I can't believe it!
Mitchell: That's how it goes every time. Every time.

Cameron: Okay, you know what? We have to get on the show. Can you imagine a backyard makeover, what he would do with ours?
Mitchell: Yeah, one word, three syllables, starts with "gah," ends with "zebo." [Cameron is silent] Gazebo.
Cameron: I love gazebos.
Mitchell: I do, too! Now that I'm thinking about it, I have to have one.
Cameron: Oh, my gosh.
Mitchell: Wait, we work hard. We deserve to stand in the shade a few inches off the ground.

Mitchell: Hm, what's over here?
Cameron: I don't know. Oh, my gosh, Mitchell, do you like this planter? It would go great in our hopelessly outdated and neglected backyard.
Mitchell: Well, I love it if you love it. And what do you think of these pavers?
Cameron: Oh, I think they go great with that gazebo we've always dreamed of having.
Mitchell: Oh, forget it. He's gone.
Cameron: W-What did we do wrong? We were pleasant.
Mitchell: You know what? Maybe we were too nice. Couples on those shows always have conflict.
Cameron: So do we. When's the last time we agreed on anything? We- We're constantly bickering.
Mitchell: I know, sometimes it reveals something deeper, but not always.
Cameron: You know what? Let's go show him our delightful brand of bitchy friction.

Chris Martin: Hello?
Phil: Hey, hey! Welcome, welcome, welcome.
Chris Martin: Phil. Hey, I'm Chris.
Phil: Oh!
Chris Martin: Hey, what's wrong?
Phil: Oh, nothing.
Chris Martin: [sighs] You thought I'd be better looking. People think that because the rest of the band look like hobbits.