Jess: Hello. Two canvassers reporting for duty. Jessica Day, school administrator. Cecilia Parikh, community college graduate, soon to be transferred to a four year university.
Mary Ellen: I don't have time for this.
Jess: Well, actually... She doesn't know which one yet.
Cece: Yeah, I haven't been accepted.
Mary Ellen: I don't have time to listen to you.
Jess: Sure. Oh, no.
Mary Ellen: Just be respectful, informative.
Jess: Hillary Clinton was born in 1947 and her parents are Hugh and Dorothy.
Cece: Woman won a Grammy. That's a fact.
Both: Takes a village.

Schmidt: What is so genius about the new system is that it's completely self-explanatory. Now, let's say you get a heating bill. Where does it go?
Winston: Oh. [chuckles] Didn't know I was gonna be quizzed. Loft bills.
Schmidt: That's right.
Winston: And do not put that in the old mail, soy sauce, dead battery drawer.
Schmidt: Wh... What?
Winston: What?
Schmidt: What is this drawer? Take me to the drawer, Winston. Where is it?

Nick: Winston! I hope you're happy! I showed her my turd pipe.
Schmidt: I don't know what's going on in your lives, but we need to start eating dinner together again.

Nick: You got in my head. I decided to call Reagan and it went horribly.
[flashback:]
Nick: [on the phone] Hi, this is Nick. Yeah, Nick Miller, boyfriend. Boyfriend. [imitating Southern accent] What you got? Why am I talking this way? Hi. [normally] Talking, me talking. You listening, you listening. [talking incoherently]
[present:]
Nick: Next thing I knew, I was saying the words "phone" and "sex" and now she expects phone sex.

Winston: Welcome... to the Winston Bishop Clinic for Satellite Sexual Intercourse. Eh?
Nick: This is how you do phone sex?
Winston: Video sex, Nick.
[flashback to a shirtless Winston using a tropical island background:]
Winston: Aloha. Beautiful girl on a beautiful day in Hawaii.
Aly: Ooh.
Winston: Let's make love for the Japanese bombers. [bombing sound effects]
Aly: Oh, my God! They're bombing us! No! No!
[present:]
Nick: You know we share a wall, right?

Jess: Hey. Thought you could use a hot cup. So, when the dust settles, what's, uh... what's next for the supervisor?
Mary Ellen: My name is Mary Ellen and I haven't thought about myself in weeks.
Jess: Oh, well, best of luck.

Winston: Okay, let's pick out a backdrop. Where do you want to get naughty? Paris? Rome? Huh? Drink a little tea?
Nick: That's not sexy.
Winston: Afric... nah, you don't want to... Outer space?
Nick: You can do it in space?
Winston: Oh, yes, Nick. You can. And you will.

Mary Ellen: Uh, we lost a couple of deadbeats over in envelopes. We need you there.
Schmidt: I'm not one of you people. I'm very sorry. I'm a Repu... Hmm. I'm repulsed by that garbage dump you call an envelope station.
Mary Ellen: Great. Then organize it.
Schmidt: No. [heads for the exit, then turns back] [singsongy] I'm-a make a system.

Jess: I couldn't see the smug look on Schmidt's face, but I could feel it. I'll be damned if I cast a vote for Bishop-Furguson.
Cece: Wait, where-where are you going?
Jess: Back to the coven of Greek sirens. I say we go in hard, with the violent history of the suffragette, and then, we ease into some light reproductive rights.
Cece: That is one way to do it. Or...
[cut to:]
Cece: Who's ready to party?
Jess: And gab about the kind of world we want to leave our grandchildren! ... Hopefully one that's full of parties!

Nick: I feel sexy. Can I, uh, practice some sex talk I've been working on? Pretend you're Reagan. [exhales] Take off your space pants, I want to do sex with you over this video thing.
Winston: Don't overthink it.