Winston: There's not much sunlight left.
Nick: What are you afraid of, the dark?
Winston: No, I'm not afraid of the dark. I'm worried about Schmidt. He's a Jew in the desert. I don't want him to wander.

Jess: Meep-meep!
Nick: Jess, honestly, don't do the Road Runner to a coyote!
Jess: That's how you deal with coyotes.
Nick: Coyotes hate roadrunners!
Jess: That's how you deal with them.
Nick: Coyotes want to kill roadrunners!
Jess: Meep-meep!

Schmidt: That's why I'm gonna have to White Fang her.
Jess: Schmidt, come on! Look, I try not to judge what you guys do, but please don't tell me things like that.
Schmidt: No, no, Jess, Jess. The book, White Fang.
Jess: Oh.
Schmidt: This guy befriends a wild creature. But he must, he must set the animal free because that's what's best for it.
Jess: I know the plot of White Fang.
Schmidt: But the animal won't go. So with a breaking heart, he throws stones at it until it runs away.

Winston: Whoa, whoa! Why you taking back your lamp?
Nick: I think you just answered that when you called it my lamp.
Winston: No, man. Squatters' rights.
Nick: What's wrong? You still afraid of the dark?
Winston: What? No. Dude.
Nick: 'Cause, if you are, I'll leave this behind.
Winston: Nick, first of all, I'm not afraid of the dark. But if I were afraid of the dark, that would be a totally rational, adaptive evolutionary response.
Nick: Good night, Winston.
Winston: That's ridiculous. I'm not afraid of the dark.
Nick: Good night, sweetheart. [ghoulish] Unless the monsters get you. [closes door; opens door again to scream]

Winston: Hey, Jess! What took you so long? Let me tell you something ... you never want to lose a race against the night.

Schmidt: When Nick leaves, I'm going to call a plumber and just throw cash at him while he works. Fitties and hunnits, hunnits, hunnits.

Schmidt: But look, on the bright side, it is impossible for me to get aroused in this thing. Here, watch ... say something hot to me.
Cece: Fresh-pressed linens.
Schmidt: Nope, nothing. Not an inch. Like a swaddled baby.

Schmidt: What the hell war is this?
Photographer All right, turn around and face him.
Schmidt: Am-am I... Am I supposed to want to buy a missile? I don't understand. Just pounding the drum of war. What-what, did no one listen to Eisenhower?

Schmidt: We need to talk.
Cece: All right. This is not another one of those "merlot is the whore of the vineyard" talks, is it?
Schmidt: This isn't working out.
Cece: Are you kidding... right now? Are you trying to end this with me? [Schmidt kisses Cece and walks away]
Schmidt: Now go on! You heard me! Go on! Go on, scram! Go! I hate you! Go! [screams] Go back to your kind!
Cece: Are you White Fanging me?
Schmidt: Sorry, what?
Cece: White Fang, Schmidt. The only book on your Kindle. The one that you wouldn't stop talking about. Remember, I said, "Please, stop talking about White Fang." And you said, "Someday, I'm gonna do this to somebody." That White Fang.

Jess: You-you want Cece to go away?
Schmidt: No. I want her to be happy. 'Cause when-when you care about somebody, you do what's-what's best for them. Even if it sucks for you. Even if they're just a "woof."
Jess: A wolf?
Schmidt: A "woof."
Jess: A wolf.
Schmidt: Yeah, that's what I said, a "woof."
Jess: A wolf.
Schmidt: A "woof."