Schmidt: Ah. N... noise. N... noise. Where would... where would we be without you?
Outside Dave: I don't know.
Schmidt: A tree falls, a cabin is made, uh... [muttering] It just... this doesn't... doesn't look right. A woman screams, a b... a baby is b... a baby is born.
Fawn Moscato: Maybe if the speaker would stop fiddling with his jacket...
Schmidt: I just... It... It just doesn't feel like these are...
Outside Dave: He's saying all the right things.
Schmidt: That son-of-a-bitch tailor ruined my jacket. [sighs] That... that baby that screamed becomes a man and that... that was the story of Abra... Abraham Lincoln.
Jess: How dare you evoke Lincoln! He was our quietest president!
Schmidt: I feel... I'm just so... I'm so uncomfortable right now, because of my sleeves. I feel like an idiot up here, in this jacket! Nobody's telling me my... my... The tailoring is off! I'm going... I'm seeing... I'm seeing a new tailor, everyone.
Fawn Moscato: Sir... ?
Outside Dave: My tailor's great. I'll give you his number: Eight.
Schmidt: I look like a freaking matador in this thing! Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!