Schmidt: Damp! Damn it! Everybody ... bathroom now!
Jess: What's up, Dad?
Nick: What, Schmidt?
Schmidt: Is someone playing a joke on me? Honestly, why is my towel still damp?
Nick: 'cause it's not your towel. It's my towel, Schmidt.
Schmidt: No, it's not your towel. Your towel is the red one.
Nick: I'll tell you this, pal. I've never used that. I do use that one every single day.
Schmidt: Oh, God. [gags]

Schmidt: How do you think this is your towel? Do you even wash it?
Nick: No, I don't wash the towel; the towel washes me. Who washes a towel?
Julia: You never wash...?
Nick: You wash your towel?
Schmidt: You never wash the towel?
Nick: What am I going to do? Wash the shower next? Wash a bar of soap? You got to think here, pal.
Schmidt: I'm furious right now.
Nick: I get out of the damn shower, I'm clean as a damn baby, and I use the towel.
Schmidt: Let me ask you this. Have you been wearing my underpants?
Nick: Sometimes, yeah. Who cares? [Schmidt gags] You guys don't wear each other's underpants? You're lying. We all wear each other's underwear.

Schmidt: Ah! Damp towel! Damp!
Jess: Here we go...
Schmidt: It's like a really big Wet-Nap. Ah. I feel like I'm being licked by a golden retriever. Look at this bathroom. There should not be two girls in this bathroom. You're too humid. You make everything damp.
Jess: 80% of the products in here are yours.
Schmidt: Blah, blah, blah, yawn. Yes, I use sculpting chutney. Once I'm done with my chutney, back in the row it goes. Hair everywhere... The multicolored rubber bands. I'm fine with it. It's all okay with me. But a damp towel is where I draw the line.

Winston: So, um... your place or mine?
Shelby: [laughs]
Winston: What are we laughing at?
Shelby: How much I'm not going home with you tonight. [laughs] You show up after two years, out of the blue, and all you do is talk about yourself. You don't even let me get a word in edgewise.
Winston: Why did you agree to let me take you out for drinks?
Shelby: Winston, you took me out for a drink at the place where I work! Here's your bill. Thanks for the water.
Winston: Man, I told you to get yourself whatever you wanted. You chose water.

Jess: Why can't you just admit that she's your girlfriend?
Nick: I know, I just thought it was uncomplicated, and now I'm freaking out. I'm not good at being a boyfriend. I'm good at being that guy that you find yourself spending more and more time with until you meet your husband.
Jess: All right. So, so far, Nick Miller's list of fears is sharks, tap water, real relationships.
Nick: And blueberries.

Schmidt: Here's a scenario that's paid sexual dividends, particularly in the Asian markets, and I think, Jess, you can back me up on this. Inform her that you're an aerialist for the Cirque du Soleil.
Jess: Winston, just ask questions, pay attention to her, listen to her, don't listen to him.
Winston: Oh, believe me, I don't take advice from Schmidt. Never have, never will. Ever.

Julia: Well, I guess we're never going to know if the bird defense works. Such a bummer, too. We have this pool at my office.
Jess: Okay. Hey! I got something to say to you, man.
Julia: What?
Jess: I brake for birds. I rock a lot of polka dots. I have touched glitter in the last 24 hours. I spend my entire day talking to children. And I find it fundamentally strange that you're not a dessert person. That's just weird, and it freaks me out. And I'm sorry I don't talk like Murphy Brown. And I hate your pantsuit. I wish it had ribbons on it or something to make it just slightly cuter. And that doesn't mean I'm not smart and tough and strong.
Julia: Okay.
Jess: And I know you like Nick, and I'm not trying to interfere, but you should just talk to him about it.
Julia: Are you done?
Jess: I am almost done. I'm about to go and pay this $800 fine, and my checks have baby farm animals on them, bitch. [walks off]
Julia: That's the wrong way. [Jess turns back]

Schmidt: Hey! Anyone! My towel! Can someone please get my towel? It's in my room next to my Irish walking cape. The... the bigger towel. Not... do not touch the small one.

[later, Schmidt walks through the living room with a small towel around his waist]
Schmidt: Okay, I left my towel in my room. Nobody look. Nobody look, yo.
Sadie: [scoffs] We don't want to.
Schmidt: Nobody look. Seriously, no... no one's looking? All right, forget it. [trips] Aah! Damn it.
Sadie: See, he's a natural blond.
Cece: What shape is that supposed to be shaved into?
Jess: Think he's trying to force perspective.
Schmidt: [chuckles] Very funny. I got to get something off my chest.
Cece: No, Schmidt, there is an apron right over there ... go cover yourself.
Jess: You are Jewish.
Sadie: You're making me gayer.

Jess: Are you going to go on, like, a big wet towel rant?
Schmidt: No. This is now a sex rant. To wit, six months ago, I thought getting a girl roommate would mean sex all the time ... definitely with her friends and probably with her. Are there women here? Yeah, sure, more than ever. But you ... not going to happen. You, I will never give up. And you... well, you sample from the gumbo pot.
Sadie: Ha.
Schmidt: I am in a damp bathroom full of naked women every day, and I hate it. It's like a nightmare. I'm in a... watermelon-themed apron with a... A tampon? Why would you need this for cooking?