Jess: Muffin? Muffin. They're homemade. Blueberry. Look out, principal's coming! [chuckles] Bah. Just kidding. Muffin?
Ramona: Are you calling me Muffin or offering me one? Either way, no.
Jess: Okay. Well, cool, cool, cool, cool.

Jess: Ugh. Come on. The kids used to love Vice Principal Jess, and now they won't have anything to do with Principal Jess. It's like I'm living in my own damn adorable shadow.

Winston: So, as you can see here, I treat Furguson right. Okay? Organic kitty litter. I got the miniature piano,
the tiny, tiny treadmill, and right over here is where we do couples yoga.
Gil: [gags] Fish nuggets? Oh, well, that would explain his recent oily eliminations, which I document on the cloud.
Winston: You track his poop?
Gil: What, you just weigh his hairballs and clock out?

Cece: Furguson is happy here, okay? [voice breaks] Around people that actually cherish him.
Winston: Don't you start, Cece.
Cece: And who helped him become the cat that he is.
Winston: Now ain't the time.
Cece: I'm sorry, but it's true.
Winston: Now ain't the time.
Gil: What's happening?
Cece: I'm trying, okay? I've just got to breathe for a second.

Winston: Let me explain something to you, okay? Furguson is my cat. I found him first.
Gil: Well, you may have found Furguson, but Sweatshirt found me.
Winston: I see you want to play hardball here. How about this?
Cece: Mm-hmm.
Winston: We settle things the way we do on the street.
Cece: Mm-hmm.
Winston: Catcall.
Cece: What?
Winston: We let Furguson decide.
Cece: Oh, yeah.
Gil: Fine. We'll leave the decision in his paws.
Cece: Which are now incredibly strong, thanks to his new set of, uh, mini-dumbbells. You're welcome. [Winston chuckling] Ooh, ooh!

Jess: Okay, Pepper-heads! Get ready for a memorable experience, which I hope you will recount at your weddings, which I will also be at, brought to you by your favorite principal-slash-friend, Jessica Day. Please welcome your favorite author, Nick Miller! [girls cheering] Yay!
Nick: No, no, no. Stop it, stop it. All right, let's get this over with. Uh, let's talk about the book you guys most certainly don't understand because it wasn't written for you or people your age. Go ahead.

Ramona: You write female desire so well.
Nick: Thank you.
Ramona: That's okay to say, right?
Jess: Yah, Ramona. I'm-I'm just like you. I'm your princi-pal. I'm your friend. I like to just throw on my rollerblades, and just go out there and think.

Schmidt: Jeremy, I'm just gonna go grab a coffee, and then I will...
Jeremy: Dark roast, soy creamer, 160 degrees. How was your lunch, sir?
Schmidt: Disappointing.
Jeremy: Why don't you eat the homemade bucatini I brought for myself?
Schmidt: Well, thank you, Jeremy. Um, you know, I'm not getting e-mails on my... [phone beeps] I just got an e-mail on my phone. It's from you. "Subject: Your e-mail is now working." All right. Well, Jeremy, I'm just gonna go enjoy this bucatini and, uh, organize the Peterson account.
Jeremy: I did it already.
Schmidt: You did? Okay. I guess I'll just...
Jeremy: Enjoy your lunch.
Schmidt: Yeah.

Schmidt: You know what? If it's always gonna be empty, let's just fill it with goldfish.
Nick: So dramatic.
Schmidt: [phone chimes] Jeremy texted me and he left an ice coffee in the fridge. It's like this guy's in my mind.
Jess: It's also like he's in our kitchen when we're sleeping.

Jeremy: Did you say something?
Schmidt: Jer-Jeremy! Enough! Dear Lord. You know, I wanted an assistant that was gonna anticipate my every need so I wouldn't have to yell, but now I'm yelling, because I have an assistant that's anticipating my every need, and I can't breathe! Work isn't everything, man. Just... go meet yourself a girl. Or a, or a man. I don't know what you're into. You're very hard to read sexually. But please, Jeremy. That'll be all.