Jess: Wait. This is a sorority house.
Cece: It's probably a house full of unregistered voters.
Jess: I hear you, I do, but there's nothing scarier to me than sorority girls.
Woman: [opens door] Hey, you got the keg? 'Cause we're almost tapped and I'm like, "What?"
Cece: [clears throat] Um, are you ladies planning to vote?
Woman: Yeah, bye. [door closes]
Jess: Is she gone? I stood frozen like you're supposed to when you see a bear in the woods.

Jess: Ladies! I'm yelling from a balcony! Your female forebears fought to give you a voice. One of them threw herself in front of a horse. A horse!
Cece: Jess, come down, okay? You're drunk, they're all drunk. I'm drunk. We lost the bet.
Jess: This is not about the bet, this is about America!
Cece: [sighs] Here we go.
Jess: Now, you ladies can sit on the sidelines and let someone else dictate your futures, or you can speak up and take charge of your lives. Now, if you're not willing to do that, then shame on you. But if you are, then I want to hear your voice.

Jess: Where are you... Ivana Getsum? How about-how about you, Anita Wang? [women chuckling]
Cece: Show your face, Melanie Fart. Where you at? Are you serious? We had a real moment.
Jess: How about, um... Babaloo Softlock?
Cece: Holden D. Cankles, where...
Woman: [o.s.] I'm here!
Jess: Burt Tacomeat?
Cece: Jackie Rectum?
Jess: Boobs Gargler?
Cece: Diaria Jones?
Jess: Oprahs' friend Gayle?
Cece: Yaseen Maboobs?
Jess: Claude Balls?
Woman 2: [o.s.] Here!
Jess: Well, I'm booze girl, and booze girl wants to hear... your voices!
All [chanting]: Booze girl! Booze girl! Booze girl! Booze girl! Booze girl!
Jess: All right, now I need your real signatures!
Cece: The forms are all filled up.
Jess: Well, then let's march to the headquarters!

Cece: No, okay, look, Jess, Jess, I know school is your life, okay, and I respect that, you know that I do, but we're different people. I don't want to be stuck in a classroom. I want to be out in the world working with people. I just really need you both to support me.
Schmidt: I support you. I will always support you. I mean, this sort of ruins my dream of... taking you in a dorm room, but...
Cece: A dorm room? Did you think I was gonna move out?
Schmidt: I thought...

Jess: [whispering to Cece] Don't tell Schmidt we haven't gotten any new voters.
Schmidt: [on the phone to Cece] Tell Jess that I'm not surprised. And her whispers are like screams.
Jess: Hey!
Cece: Whoa. All right.
Jess: [takes phone] The day's not done.
Schmidt: Money and special interests, Jess. Let me hear you say it: democracy is dead.
Jess: Democracy is... [Schmidt hangs up] alive. He got where I was going.

Schmidt: This loft has devolved into chaos.
Cece: You promised me if we had sex this morning, you wouldn't get riled up.
Schmidt: Sex was great. Blessings. But look at all this mail. Small-time drug dealers are more organized than this.
Cece: Oh, my God, my uncle Lee got married.
Schmidt: This is what I'm talking about.
Cece: Oh, my God, he died.

Schmidt: I'm not gonna let you lose out because our roommates are a bunch of railway cats. Clear your schedule. We're organizing.
Cece: Can't. I'm campaigning with Jess today.
Jess: Let's get ready to Rodham! ["Pump Up the Jam" by Technotronic plays] Y'all ready for this... election?

Jess: All right. While you sit this one out, Cece and I are gonna register new voters and help Hillary prove that a woman's place is in the house...
Jess & Cece: The White House.

Schmidt: This is not P.S. Hippie Montessori. Nobody cares anymore. Democracy is dead.
Jess: Wha...
Schmidt: If you get five new voters, hell, you know what, I'll vote for Hillary.
Cece: Excuse me?
Jess: Things... just... got... interesting.
Schmidt: But if you don't, you have to vote for Winston.
Winston: Bishop? Winston Bishop?
Jess: Game on, you Republican minx.
Winston: Hey, guys, if I win, I just want you to know there will be some things that come out about me. Just ride it out.

Winston: I mean, Aly and I have got it down to an art.
Nick: Really? 'Cause I'm... I'm really struggling. In New Orleans, Reagan and I had such an easy time talking, but now there's so much pressure that we just text.
Winston: Just talk on the phone.
Nick: I hate talking on the phone, Winston. I feel like I'm exposing my turd pipe.
Winston: What?
Nick: I just know that I feel cold and I'm terrified.