Nick: Let's just say, hypothetically, we live in a world where time travel exists, okay? So if that is the case...
Schmidt: One, Marie Antoinette. Two, Cleopatra. Three, young Ann-Margret. Four, old Ann-Margret.
Nick: Would you shut up, you clown?! I'm being serious! I'm talking about real time travel here, Schmidty.
Schmidt: And I made an astute observation off of that.

Jess: Okay, look, I had the best sex of my life last night. He brewed me like a fine chamomile.
Nick: Oh, so that was you. I thought that was a couple bums fighting.
Jess: It wasn't.. It was me having sex. I left my body, went up to heaven, saw my grandparents, thought it was weird that I saw my grandparents, came back down, I became a werewolf, I scared some teenagers. I came back into my body. Only thing is, he thinks my name is Katie. And that I'm a dancer and/or something involving puppets.

Nick: I might have met future me.
Schmidt: Who knows about this?
Nick: Nobody. You're the first person I've told, obviously.
Schmidt: Whoa.
Nick: If I find out how you die, do you want me to tell you?
Schmidt: Don't worry. I already know. It's one of these moles. See this little S.O.B. right there?
Nick: That's the guy?
Schmidt: I've been eyeing him for a while. That's one's gonna turn green one day, and then [snaps fingers] there you go. Schmidt's dead.