Schmidt: Oh, no. Ruth hasn't been signed out. Um, excuse me. Um, have you seen Ruth? Brown hair, smile that would shake the earth, hates peas?
Girl: A white man broke in today.
Schmidt: A... a white man?! No! Well, what did security do about it?!
Winston: All right, everybody stop! Wherever you are right now, just sit down! Okay, now, Saturday is a day for sleeping, and damn it, you will not take that away from me! You, give her her scarf back. Finders keepers is not a thing. You, get out of my house!
Holly: Who are you?
Winston: Who am I? Who am I? Well, I am Theodore K. Mullins. And Nick is my lover on the down low. Tell her, Nick. Tell her how it really goes down in apartment 4D. Oh, great Negro spiritual, please come down and loose these chains on this woman! Flesh on flesh. When the lights are off, we are all the same.
Nick: Not true.
Winston: Dear lord, help me, Father! Get out of my house. Get out of my house!
Nick: I'm using magnetic words to break through my writer's block, and it's not working. I've already folded all my shirts and masturbated six times, and I'm running out of things to do. I'm just in a real bind. You see, The Pepperwood Chronicles sold over 30 copies, Jess.
Jess: So, what, we're complaining about good things now?
Nick: It's just, my audience is gonna be clamoring for a sequel, and I can't leave those stevedores, those-those tugboat workers, those lighthouse keepers empty-handed.
Jess: You think that your audience is entirely made of, like...
Nick: Blue-collar nautical workers on the coastline of Maine. I don't think that, Jess, I know that.
Schmidt: You know, when we first met, I had to pretend that all kinds of things were wrong with you just so I wouldn't freak out. You know, like, I gave you a glass eye for a while. You had a wooden foot for a short period of time. There was one week where I pretended that you were a Democrat.
Cece: I am a Democrat.
Schmidt: [laughing] Ah, that's so funny. I love you.
Cece: Okay. So we tell Nick she has a glass eye.
Schmidt: He'll spin out. He'll think the eye is a government-issued camera taking pictures for Langley. [Cece scoffs] Nick's a conspiracy theorist. It's like an Irish carnival up there-- just potato peels, broken rides, fiddle music, dreams left unfulfilled, bloodied soccer jerseys, bunch of women limping around named Moira.
Reagan: It isn't a dream job. Sure, it comes with a great salary and a vaccination for the coming elk flu. The flu that you're gonna be hearing about for the next decade.
Schmidt: [on the phone] Yes, hello. I'm calling to remind you to vote for a better America and a vote for a better America is a vote for Hubbedy Bubbedy.
Mary Ellen: Hillary Clinton.
Schmidt: That's what I said. Hibiddy Bibbidy.
Mary Ellen: It's Hillary.
Schmidt: Yes, I know.
Mary Ellen: Hillary Clinton!
Schmidt: And I keep saying that. Okay? Hubbedy Barry. Maria Conchita Alonso.
Mary Ellen: What's wrong with you?
Schmidt: Celery Flintstone. [hangs up] I can't do this! Vote for Paul Ryan in 2020! Paul Ryan in 2020! Paul Ryan! Give me that. [grabs another phone] Paul Ryan in 20... 2020, for President of the United States. Paul Ryan in 2020! [grabs another phone] Pau... Paul Ryan in 2020. President of the United States. Paul Ryan in 2020! Paul Ryan! Paul Ryan in 20... [struggling] Get off of me! You smell like a wet campsite.
Schmidt: Cece has zero idea that you're flying her mother in for the engagement party tonight. She is... she is alarmingly in the dark. Maybe it's a cultural thing. You know, we saw the British coming. India did not.
Schmidt: I'm soft like a lady. You won't even know.
Nick: But what if I get a surprise?
Schmidt: "A surprise"?
Nick: What if there's a surprise on me?
Schmidt: There's not gonna be a surprise on you.
Nick: What if I'm fighting the war and boom... there's a surprise!
Schmidt: You go north, I go south. Do you know what I'm saying? I'm in steerage and I'm rowing. And I'm rowing and I'm rowing and the... You're up in the crow's nest. Fre-fresh air up there, man. And I'm in the trenches, you know? I'm digging for coal. I'm breathing in those fumes. And you're up here. You're just taking in the sights. You're spotting dolphins, huh? You're just the handsome prince covered in salty sea spray...
Nick: I don't want you calling me handsome before a potential four-way!
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.
Nick: Hey, where are you guys getting your photos developed these days? I got these beefcake selfies that I want to dangle in front of Jess, get her engine revved up.
Schmidt: Your phone has a camera, Nick.
Nick: These are sexy, sensual, private pics. I don't want them beamed right into Snowden's pocket. I'm not going through Wikileaks, man. It's not for me. Analog. It's the only thing you can trust.
Winston: You care to elaborate, you know, on this whole analog thing?
Nick: No, here's the reality, you never know what's gonna happen with a phone.
Nick: The hinges that hold the flip together, they get loosened over time when... when they get wet. And then once you open it, it's easier for people to go in there and see your passwords and, you know, see your codes. Once the screen breaks, your information's in the Twitterverse, man. And it's all out there for everyone to see, all these little monkey elves, man, all these kids. That's all they do. [sputters] Get your information, man. Bottom line is you can't control your technology. That's what's going on in Japan with all those robots. Not for me, man. That's why I trust a hard copy. Plain and simple.