Winston: I get it, Schmidt. We're in a rut.
Schmidt: Without sex, she's not your girlfriend, okay? She's a friend that you buy meals for. Winston, I get it, man. You're... you're scared to end it. You're just like Cece. Cece's scared to end it with Robby, because clearly she's still nuts about me.
Winston: Robby's nice. Good guy, man. He always has gum.
Schmidt: "Oh, Robby... he's such a nice guy." I'll show you nice guy. Boom. Punch him in his face. Yeah, put you in a guillotine choke hold. And then Robby's like, "Oh, my God! I can't believe this. Young Abraham Lincoln is choking me out in his guillotine."
Winston: You're going as young Abe Lincoln for Halloween?
Schmidt: Statistically speaking, every American thinks about Abraham Lincoln at least once a day. And Cece's American, so...
Winston: Thank you for that information, Schmidt.

Amelia: You had an alter ego, remember?
Nick: Yeah.
Amelia: The guy who'd been in a coma who woke up thinking he had invented pie.
Nick: Oh, I got a great new idea for a dessert! Wait a second, what year is it? [Amelia laughs] That's awesome you liked that. No, I'm really glad you're here. Welcome to Los Angeles. L.A., as the locals call it. This is the city where many scenes from the film Beverly Hills Chihuahua were shot.

Schmidt: What am I looking at here? Robby, man to man, you didn't want to wear something, I don't know, a little more form flattering? Maybe like a pile of towels, the number eight?
Cece: Schmidt.
Schmidt: I know. But how could I not knock down such low-hanging fruit? Speaking of low-hanging fruit, Jess, you didn't want to let out the pants a little bit?
Jess: No.
Schmidt: Not even a touch?
Jess: No.
Schmidt: You want to look at your work?
Jess: Looks great.
Schmidt: Not to an eight-year-old child. Who's just staring right down the barrel.