Adrian Monk: Look, I don't know what to think. Sharona has been under a lot of stress. She's been losing things. She's been forgetting appointments.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Maybe she needs some time off.
Adrian Monk: From what?
Captain Stottlemeyer: From you. Monk, that lady's got the most stressful job in North America. I know guys on the bomb squad, tough as nails, nerves of steel, that couldn't work for you. They'd have cracked four years ago. I'd say give her a break. A week off with pay. Send her home. There, case closed.

Natalie: Okay, there he is. And that's me.
Adrian Monk: And this is where she didn't listen to me.
Lieutenant Disher: What are you saying right there?
Natalie: I said, "nice bolt cutters."
Captain Stottlemeyer: "Nice bolt cutters."
Natalie: So what do you think?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Well, I think it's clearly a job for the bike squad. I'll radio that in. It's a 487.
Natalie: I didn't know there was a bike squad.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, we got helicopters. About 800 guys will fan out all around the city.

Captain Stottlemeyer: You gave him your word.
Agent Colmes: The deal's void, Captain.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Let me tell you something, Colmes. Adrian Monk may be afraid of milk and germs and elevators and puppies, but you, you couldn't pack that man's lunch.
Agent Colmes: Uh, that's true, actually. I've seen that man pack a lunch. He's insane. It was great working with you, Captain.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Hey, Randy. Did I ever tell you about Monk's first day as a detective?
Lieutenant Disher: No, sir.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Have a seat. He didn't have a partner, so I got stuck with him.
Lieutenant Disher: Was he, you know...
Captain Stottlemeyer: No. He was a little wound. He used to wipe off the windshield and rearrange the glove box before we'd roll. Anyway, we're the primaries on a body in a hotel in the Castro. A hooker had swallowed a bunch of promazine, you know, the big sleeping pills?
Lieutenant Disher: Horse tranquilizer, sir.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I said, "Suicide." Every cop on the scene said, "Suicide." Medical examiner said, "Suicide." Monk walks in, says, "Murder. Where's the water?" The room had no water. Simple. Eight people in the room, but nobody saw that.
Lieutenant Disher: Well, I'm sure you would've seen it eventually, sir.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Don't kid yourself. There is only one Adrian Monk.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Hell of a thing, the oldest man in the world. Randy had a theory. He thinks maybe the second oldest man in the world did it, to claim the title. He actually looked into it.

Captain Stottlemeyer: You're retiring? How old are you?
Gordo: 46.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Did you win the lottery?
Gordo: No, I've been investing. Real estate. What have you been doing with your savings?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Uh, eating. You know, I need to talk to my accountant.
Natalie: What, you have an accountant?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Nope. Gonna have to get an accountant, then I'm gonna talk to him.

Adrian Monk: [over intercom] Ms. Hubbert, I'm sure you wouldn't want us to inform the school board about your little drinking problem.
Helen Hubbert: What? I mean, how-
Adrian Monk: How? How? We're the FBI, that's how!
Captain Stottlemeyer: Oh, for God's sakes, he can see the flask in your pocket.
Adrian Monk: And Ms. Hubbert, I'm sure you wouldn't want the IRS to know about your second job. You have been moonlighting as a waitress, haven't you? Have you been reporting all of your tips?
Captain Stottlemeyer: He's looking inside your purse. He can see your wad of singles. Hey! Hey, Agent FBI Man, huh? [drags shoe across the mirror] Here, what do you think of that?
Adrian Monk: Leland, you can put this woman away for the rest of her life. Linda Fusco will still be guilty.

Captain Stottlemeyer: I've got some good news. Sort of consolation prize. I talked to the commissioner. He's gonna put you under contract.
Natalie: Really?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Put you on retainer. He has guaranteed you 16 homicides a year for next two years.
Adrian Monk: Sixteen a year? What- What about after that?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Well, we'll have to take it one year at a time. We'll see.

Adrian Monk: I think we should talk to that guy again, that Chet Walsh with the funny foamy finger. Remember? He had this big, foamy finger.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I know who you mean, Monk.
Adrian Monk: He said he saw Gitelson this morning!
Captain Stottlemeyer: Look, Monk, it's out of our jurisdiction. It's not our case. We'll just be in the way, okay? Come on, every good cop knows you can't be in it 24/7. Even God took a day off. And what day did he take off? It was Sunday. Why did he take off Sunday? I tell you why Sunday, so he could watch football!

Captain Stottlemeyer: Did you talk to the lab?
Lieutenant Disher: Yeah, I just got off the phone with them. He's not gonna make it.
[Stottlemeyer pulls out a bottle of scotch and two glasses]
Lieutenant Disher: Should I shut the door?
Captain Stottlemeyer: I don't care. Let them fire me. I wish they would. I had him all wrong. I know that now. I always thought that Monk was not all there. Like, there was something missing. Like he was less than human. But he wasn't missing anything. He was seeing more than anybody. He was feeling more than anybody. Hell, that was his problem. He was too human. If we had more like him, we'd be better off.