Schmidt: I can hear it. I can hear it building its house. Building its sticky, deadly house that you can never leave. Building it. With its ass.

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]

Winston: So you and Cece are staying away from each other.
Schmidt: Only until my penis stops looking like a knotted wizard's staff.

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.

Robby: Do you think Cece and Pavun will make it?
Schmidt: I don't know. Really can't say. What I can say is that one arranged marriage did take place today. The marriage of Schmidt and Robby.
Robby: [laughs] Hell, yeah.
Schmidt: I only dread the day that we defeat all the Indians, and must face each other in a duel to the death.
Robby: Yeah. Buzz kill.
Schmidt: We're like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Except only one of us dies at the end of the movie. It's gonna be you. You're the one that's gonna die.
Robby: You want another beer?
Schmidt: Sure do, compadre.

Schmidt: You ladies need to be very careful. Blow-out can give a woman too much confidence. Make them take on things that they can't handle. Hillary Clinton.

Schmidt: I'm excited. I shaved my entire body last night. I feel like I could ride the wind to work.

Schmidt: It's cool, man. It's just a little color. In a couple days I'll be brown just like you, Cece. Because... because your culture is...
Cece: What is my culture?
Schmidt: It's, um... you're... Fff... Um... Jjj... Jaflan... Jafanese? Uh, Sa-Saudi... Saudiboo... Um... Monga...
Cece: My parents were born in India.
Schmidt: India... totally. Love India.
Winston: He really does. Hey, Schmidt, why don't you tell her about all the things you love about India.
Schmidt: Uh, sure. I love, you know, uh, I love Slumdog. I love naan, uh, pepper, Ben Kingsley, the stories of Rudyard Kipling. I have respect for cows, of course. I love, uh, the Taj Mahal, Deepak Chopra, anyone named Patel. I love monsoons. I love... I love cobras and baskets, Naveen Andrews. I love mango chutney, uh, really, any type of chutney. Teepees...

Jess: Okay, fine, I don't know where the vacuum is. That is one reason why I came here, but I really want you to come home. Everything's falling apart without you. Nick and Winston are fighting all the time. And all of us lost our keys to the mailbox. Schmidt, just listen to me, because you don't belong here, like, really. Do you remember when you got yourself off to An Inconvenient Truth? How about when you dress up like Shia Labeouf from Wall Street Two for Halloween? Do you remember when you said jazz music was America's greatest mistake?
Schmidt: Say it in drums, Jessica Day. Me hablo drums.

Winston: [to the doorman] We got Tagg Romney out here. We're gonna need you to sweep the the perimeter.
Doorman: What the hell you talking about?
Schmidt: Tagg Romney. Pleasure to meet you, sir.
Doorman: Romney. Like, Mitt Romney's your dad?
Schmidt: Let's get America back to work.