Nick: Look at those horny, horny hippos. I'm gay for you like that.

Nick: I love you.
Jess: I love you, too. And that's why we're capping off six months of European romance with the most romantic destination of all.
Nick: A three-year-old's birthday party.
Jess: [laughs] Wait till everyone sees what Mama's got on her finger.
Nick: I still can't believe it.
Jess: Me, neither.

Schmidt: Mommy is so good at her job, that she has to work on Saturdays. Now Daddy is gonna do his job, because these braids are straight-up dock ropes.
Ruth: Daddy, do the special braids.
Schmidt: I-I know. They're all... honey, they're all special.

Winston: Ooh. I need a break.
Cece: Ah! I cannot believe I let you talk me into this again. But we got to finish, 'cause Schmidt is gonna wonder where I am.
Aly: Winston! You rotated the mattress without me? Again? That is my job.
Winston: Uh, baby? Listen, you really shouldn't be carrying that.
Cece: He's right. You should listen to your husband. I'll... oh.
Aly: Don't eve... Just don't. I am seven months pregnant, and I will rotate as many mattresses as I want.
Winston: Aly would prefer that the world treat her like she isn't pregnant. Oh, which reminds me. BellyShots e-mailed me.
Aly: Mm-mm.
Winston: Our pregnancy glamour photos are ready, and we got to pick one. [Aly scoffs] So I'm mad at that. I mean, how'd they... how'd they get my e-mail?

Jess: Wait! Before hugs, we have something we want you to see.
Cece: Uh-huh?
Nick: It's a big deal.
Jess: We got in a Vespa accident!
Cece: Oh...
Nick: Look how much of my shin is missing! It's disgusting.
Winston: Where'd your shin go, man?

Jess: He made that Pocahummus from scratch?
Cece: Mm-hmm.
Jess: Oh, he's never going back to work.

Cece: I really thought you were gonna come back from Europe engaged.
Jess: Yeah. It would've been nice if he'd proposed, but you know what happens when we start talking about the future... we start freaking out. If the bird's stomach's full of bread, don't give him cheese crackers.
Cece: Can't not say it: love the nose ring.
Jess: Yeah, it was a big mistake.
Cece: Huge.
Jess: But not as huge as the neck tattoo.
Cece: The what now?
Jess: Yeah, neck tattoo. I've been telling people it stands for "Justice Shall Eventually..."

Jess: Son of a bitch! Is that who I think it is? You invited Russell? My Russell?
Cece: Mm-hmm.
Jess: My former Russell, my Fancyman?
Cece: Yeah, his son's in Ruth's tumbling class.
Jess: Russell has a three-year-old? That polecat doesn't stop. How many kids is that?
Russell: 50. From a hundred different women. Figure that one out.

Winston: Babe, there is a helium tank. Why are you doing balloons by mouth? Eh, I should've said that differently.
Aly: Because I can. Listen, Snail Eyes, I love that I'm bringing a child into this world with you.
Winston: That is the sweetest thing...
Aly: That is the only thing I love about being pregnant. Everything else, I hate. My butt is sore, my back is sore. I spend most of my day holding in farts. So you're gonna have to pick a pregnancy photo all by yourself, Winston. I would rather look at Nick's shin X-rays again.
Nick: I'll go to the car and get them.

Nick: [shudders] What the hell is that? You let him grow a mustache?
Winston: Relax. It's just a mustache.
Nick: That's not just a mustache. That's a porn star relief pitcher.