Daily Quotes - July 28
Rachel: Phoebe, it's me. I'm going to hunt you down and kill you.
Phoebe: Hey, Rach.
Rachel: This is the worst date ever. How could you set me up with this creep?
Phoebe: You know, you are talking about one of my dear, dear friends.
Rachel: I don't care. This guy is a nightmare.
Phoebe: All right, so he gets a little crazy when he's stoned.
Rachel: He's not stoned.
Phoebe: Did he go out for a cigarette?
Rachel: Yeah. Four times.
Phoebe: My dear, sweet Rach.
Dwight K. Schrute: Attention, everyone. May I have your attention? There are four new deadly weapons in this office. [kicking and punching] Basher, Thrasher, Crasher and—
Dwight K. Schrute: Smasher? No, where'd you get that? Fireball. This morning, after hours of combat with some of the city's best teenagers, I earned my black belt in Goju Ryu martial arts.
[aside to camera:]
Dwight K. Schrute: I had to find a new dojo after Sensei Ira and I parted ways. My new sensei, Sensei Billy, thought I had more than enough training to take the test. Turns out, Sensei Ira was a bit of a shyster. Sensei Billy says most students don't spend $150,000 over 20 years to get their black belt.
Alexis: I already purchased a booth. Your name is on the website, and I just printed out all of these headshots for you to sign. Obviously I will be taking commission.
Moira: Alexis, there's a good reason I've avoided these conventions in the past. Showing up, taking your picture with a motley crew of pale, dewy-faced salamander people. I haven't hit rock bottom quite yet. It's a matter of self-worth.
Alexis: You did a commercial for adult diapers!
Moira: In Japan! In full-face Kabuki makeup!
George: So what have you been doing with yourself?
Jerry: Well, I'm a comedian.
George: Ah ha. Well, I really wouldn't know about that. I don't watch much TV. I like to read. So what do you do, a lot of that "Did you ever notice..." kind of stuff.
Jerry: Yeah, yeah.
George: You know, it strikes me a lot of guys are doing that kind of humor now.
Schmidt: It's only one room, one flaw. Every beautiful thing has one flaw. Marilyn Monroe has her beauty mark. "Thriller" has its Vincent Price poem.
Cece: Babe. Do you like this ceiling fan?
Schmidt: Wicker... wicker blades!
Cece: They are made from reclaimed hampers.
Schmidt: It's like a dirty laundry propeller above our bed.
Cece: [laughing]: Yes.
Cece: [sighs] I love that we're on the same page. [exits]
Schmidt: That's right. Two flaws. Okay. Two flaws. No beautiful thing has two flaws, only ugly things. It's spreading.
Frasier: Dad, I can explain!
Martin: You threw my chair off the balcony?
Frasier: I'm so sorry. Just hear me out...
Martin: Are you crazy?
Frasier: I didn't mean to.
Martin: Forget what it means to me, you could have killed someone.
Frasier: It was an accident!
Martin: You said there are no accidents!
Tom: I think we got the boring, cliched shot that Leslie wanted.
Mark: That's it? We're done?
Tom: Not even close. Now the real art begins.
[aside to camera:]
Tom: Step one, nail this photo shoot with an amazing, iconic image. Step two, book some outside gigs. Step three, have sex with a model. Step four, step in front of the camera, become a model.
[Robin Daggers "P.S. I Love You" music video:]
Robin: [singing] The law can't stop my love I'll fit you like a glove Restraining orders don't scare me The lawyers at the record company made me promise to say "That the views expressed in this song do not necessarily Reflect the views of Dominant Records Or any of its subsidiaries" I'm totally a slacker, and I don't even care With my curling zines and my faraway stare But deep down inside, yeah, deep down inside I'm dying I'm trapped in a cage of the tears I cry I'm praying to God, but she doesn't reply Even the robot says...
Robot: Move on.
Robin: I'm trying P.S. I love you
Amy: Have you been raiding our little fridge this morning?
Robert: And you see, that's all part of it the alcohol, the candles, the oil. You mix all that together and you know what you get? A baby.
Amy: I guess the girls get a different slide show than the boys.
Robert: Listen. Listen to me, Amy. Mom is only doing this for one reason. She's trying to seduce us. You like these boxers, huh, do you? Well, you know what, she bought them because they match your eyes and won't squeeze my peas.
Dr. Cox: Oh, Bob Kelso here before noon? They're either giving away free doughnuts at the cafe or there's an Asian prostitute convention in the I.C.U.
Dr. Kelso: Is now the time I'm supposed to be embarrassed because I like fine food and Korean call girls? Write this down, Perry: I'm old and I honestly don't care what people think about anything I do. [farts] That was me, folks.
Joe: I've got the tickets.
Sarah: We haven't decided what we want to see yet, Da!
Joe: Well, I liked the look of that one with all the lads in the line-up. It's got your man in it, the farmer from Glenroe.
Mary: What, Gabriel Byrne?
Ciaran: He's done a fair bit since Glenroe now.
Joe: Who are you? His agent?
Mary: Da, I don't understand this. You hate the cinema.
Joe: Oh, not since I discovered it's the only way I can spend time with our Colm. It's the one place the boring bastard doesn't talk.
Hilary: Thank you, Chet. It's good to be back. Yes, I'm here at the Farmers Market, and as you can see my fans haven't forgotten me.
Man: Why haven't you answered any of my letters?
Hilary: Well, the good news is the heat wave is over. L.A. will have a high tomorrow of only 65. [crowd cheers] Oh, sorry, that "LA" stands for Louisiana. Our high will be 112. [crowd groans] Well, they have the same abbreviation. This is Hilary Banks surrounded by ordinary people at the Farmers Market. Now back to you, Chet. Don't any of you touch me.
Carla: What the hell do you think you're doing?
Diane: Just having a little late-night fun.
Carla: Listen, pencil neck, you're starting to get on my nerves.
Diane: Please don't call me pencil neck. I am not a pencil neck.
Carla: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you pencil neck, gozzlehead.
Diane: Name calling. The last refuge of the monosyllabic.
Carla: I don't know what that means but I heard slob in there.
Adrian Monk: It's coming from outside. I knew it. It's a hippie. It's incense. He's burning incense down there. By the way, that's a perfect name for that stuff because that's how people react to it. They get incensed. Get it? Incense, incensed. You add the "D". Forget it. [opens window] Hey, you can't sell that stuff without a permit.
Samuel Waingaya: I am not selling anything.
Adrian Monk: Of course you're not. Nobody wants to buy that junk. Find another street. Good-bye. Peace and love, and Woodstock.
Samuel Waingaya: Woodstock?
Adrian Monk: You heard me!
Charles: It looks like the perp knew what he was after. All he took was a shipment of thousand-dollar limited edition Weezies designed by Little Wayne.
Jake: Oh, it's Lil.
Charles: Oh, like Lillian.
Charles: Lillian Wayne.