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.

Jess: "Upmost"? There's only one person I know that says "upmost". It's "utmost".
Nick: "Utmost"?
Jess: "Utmost".
Nick: [chuckles] Agree to disagree. But the good news is my writer's block is gone, and that is thanks to you. You always come through for me, Jess, to the upmost.
Jess: I assure you, it's "utmost".
Nick: What's an "ut"? Come on, you're a writer. It's "up". Up to the most. Not ut to the most. I assure you.
Jess: Okay, sweetie.
Nick: You didn't come in here and say, "Thanks for putting them ut to it." I would've laughed you out of here. What is an "ut"?!

Winston: Furguson is miserable.
Jess: So you're saying that this is a different emotion than we've seen for the past three years?
Winston: A father knows. He misses Gil. It'd be wrong for me to take away a piece of his heart. I mean, I already took away his testicles.

Schmidt: I need it. I have a big day at work today.
Jess: I need it more. I have to bake muffins before work.
Schmidt: What? Why?
Jess: 'Cause it's for my "Lunch With Your Princi-Pal" campaign. See, being principal's great, but unlike being vice principal, now the buck stops with me. I'm "the Man" now, and all the kids can just smell "the Man" all over me. That sounded really weird. All I'm saying is suddenly I have no relationship with the kids. I'm really counting on these muffins to humanize me.

Nick: All right. What do we have here? "Sentient feces." Why is there a magnet that says "feces"? All right. Trust the process.

Cece: Ugh. Thanks for helping me pack.
Winston: No problem. This might be our last chance for a mess-around.
Cece: Don't you start with that last mess-around stuff.
Winston: Don't you start.
Cece: Don't start, 'cause then I'll start. Look, I'm already starting. Don't start.
Winston: I didn't start this whole thing.
Cece: I can't do it, okay?

Schmidt: Cornell. Magna cum laude. Two years of executive assistant experience. Very nice. Is this 24-pound linen stock?
Ken: Uh, yeah, it is.
Schmidt: Impressive. Ken, do me a favor. Will you, uh, untie your tie?
Ken: Uh, I can't, actually. It's, um... it's a clip-on.
Schmidt: I know. Thanks so much, son. See yourself out. Next.

Schmidt: Let me give you a scenario. We land the Bronco Blue Jeans account and install Brett Favre as its face. You receive a call from a nosy maître d'. It appears that Brett has been spotted at the Ritz-Carlton eating a salad, dressed in a tuxedo. The paparazzi are on their way. You rush in to alert me. You find me dead. What do you do?
Jeremy: I find a honky-tonk bar near the Ritz Carlton. I leave a pair of perfectly broken-in Bronco Blue Jeans in Mr. Favre's size, as well as a grass-stained T-shirt on the floor of the bathroom. I get on the phone, rent a tractor, drive it directly into the swimming pool of the Ritz-Carlton. When the staff is distracted, I physically subdue Mr. Favre under the weight of my full body, look him in the eyes and tell him to repeat after me: "I got drunk playing football and remember nothing since. I would never knowingly wear a tuxedo, drive a tractor into a swimming pool or eat a salad. And I would never knowingly leave my Bronco Blue Jeans behind."
Schmidt: And the maître d'?
Jeremy: I rented the tractor in his name. The next call he'll be making will be from the police station.
Schmidt: Welcome to Ass Strat.

Jess: I put a couple copies in the library, and the librarian didn't think it'd go anywhere. [chuckles] I can't wait to rub it in Esther's smug face.
Nick: That's very flattering.
Jess: Please come and talk to these girls. They're obsessed with Pepperwood.
Nick: I don't have time for this. I'm only on page two. And page one is just a dedication to Winston.

Jess: Please? You-you might get some ideas from your audience.
Nick: My audience is the men who built this great country. Your students would never understand that Pepperwood's just a New Orleans story about a guy fighting with the alligator within.