Jess: You do it on my terms.
Cece: What?
Schmidt: I'm gonna have to go on a craft run, aren't I?
Jess: I'm gonna need pipe cleaners, glitter, glue, finger paints and six different types of macaroni. And that's just 'cause I'm hungry.
Schmidt: Honest to God, you don't already have all of that in this room already? I mean...

Nick: When I was at law school, I-I learned that if somebody falls apart on the stand, it's mostly because they're hiding something. So, I guess my question to you, Detective, is: what are you hiding?
Winston: Nothing.
Nick: Nothing? [laughs]
Winston: I have nothing to hide.
Nick: Well, maybe not on this case, but perhaps you're hiding something from... your past?
Drunk Woman: Objection. Form of a question.
Nick: Withdrawn. Isn't it true, Detective, that this could be the result of a guilty conscience?
Winston: I have nothing to be guilty about.
Nick: Ladies and gentlemen, are we buying this? 'Cause I'm not.

Schmidt: Okay, well, now you're just napping.
Jess: We're not napping, we're going on a brain exploration. I take that back, actually. Ruth is napping.

Schmidt: Okay, well, that's enough, Jess. You're sending Ruth straight to Triangles. You hear that? [mimics a chicken] That's the schoolyard chickens. And they're... and they're pecking at Ruth. And this time, they want her eyes.
Ruth: I need my eyes for TV.
Schmidt: Oh, honey, don't you worry about a thing, okay? Daddy's gonna take over now. But the clock is a-ticking, so let's start with a drill.
Jess: No. No drills.
Schmidt: DRILL is an acronym. D: Do it. R : Redo it. I: Imitate what you just did. L: Learn to keep doing it. L: Live the rest of your life doing it. DRILL, DRILL, DRILL.
Jess: Technically, that's an acrostic. [high-pitched] Sweet burn, Jess.
Schmidt: Yeah. You got me. DRILL.

Ruth: Are you and Aunt Jess in a fight?
Schmidt: Oh, no, no, no. Uh, we're just telling stories. Uh, once upon a time, there was a fuzzy bunny who decided that colors didn't need names, and anything could be called anything, and the world descended into chaos.
Jess: But the bunny was happy, because the bunny wasn't forced into somebody else's definition of color.
Schmidt: Well, the fuzzy bunny wasn't really an authority, now, was she? Because she used to work at a school where instead of grades, they gave out rainbows.
Jess: Bringing up the bunny's past is uncalled for in this cabbage patch. But the point is: I know about private schools, and the whole system is corrupt. Said the very fuzzy bunny.
Schmidt: Until the Jewish carrot farmer brought down his mighty shovel.
Ruth: The whole system is corrupt.

Nick: You should have appreciated the fact that your friend hitchhiked across the country to visit you. [both laugh]
Winston: You're a procrastinator. You want to know why you procrastinate? I'll tell you.
Nick: But you didn't give me a chance to answer. How am I supposed to answer if not given the chance?
Winston: Fine. Answer.
Nick: It's a vague question.
Winston: It's not a vague question. Why do you procrastinate?
Nick: I don't know.
Winston: Nick, you procrastinate when something is important to you, because deep down, you're don't think you're good enough to get it done.
Nick: [laughing] That's the dumbest thing I've... It's also... that's possibly true, because that really feels like what I do when I... Keep going, you're in a good zone.
Winston: So, of course, when you actually get the opportunity to write something about your own life, the first thing you do is choke. You know how I know? Well, because for some reason, I'm your oldest friend. So I hope you get punched in the face today. I really do. And then maybe, you'll finally see that you are good enough to
be everything you want to be.
Nick: You masturbated one time.
Winston: I swear to God, Nick. If I wasn't kicked off of Craigslist...

Cece: Schmidt, you look like you're gonna be sick. Remember, they've only been on the planet for three years.
Schmidt: Oh, God. Is that kid reading Jonathan Franzen?

Jess: Wow, this place is like the frickin' Louvre. There's a kid handing out mints in the bathroom.
Schmidt: Well, then, why'd you come? To see your liberal snowflake hippie trash handiwork?
Jess: No. I came for Ruth. And in silent protest against institutions such as this hellhole. But it's quicker to say "for Ruth."
Schmidt: You are a queer little woman.

Cece: Guys, tighten up. All right? They started assessing us the minute we parked the car.
Stuart: Xiawuhao.
Schmidt: What?
Benjamin: That's "good afternoon" in Mandarin. Just a little amuse-bouche for the judges. I also brought an actual amuse-bouche. It's a crostini with burrata and tomato. Doesn't that sound yummy, Schmidt?
Schmidt: Back off, Benjamin. Your burrata doesn't scare me.
Benjamin: [laughs] I think it does.
Jess: It kind of scares me.

Prosecutor: Please state your name, sir.
Winston: [whispers] So... I'm Winston Bottoms. Uh, Winston I Was Wearing Bottoms. Damn it. S-I'm sorry to curse. I didn't mean... uh, that's... I know my name. Let's just get that... let the record show that. When you do your thing. And um... I'm Detective Bottoms.
Prosecutor: Are you okay, sir?
Winston: Ha. I'm-I'm... yes, sir, I'm sorry, um... My lower half has got the sweats. I'd like to put in a request for a wet wipe. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, if anyone has a wet wipe, I will gladly receive said wet wipe and clean off my lower half.
Prosecutor: Your Honor, may I request a recess?