Dr. Cox: You're gonna love this one. Twenty-five-year-old woman, dancer, actually. Well, not anymore. I'm afraid we had to take both of her legs. Bilateral gangrene. And seeing as her husband recently passed away, and her insurance at the dancers' union probably is not going to cover it, you should go ahead and tell her she won't be able to stay here with us for her rehab.
Elliot: Um, what room is she in?
Dr. Cox: There is no room. In fact, in the history of medicine, there's never actually been a patient that depressing. I made her up! Come on, now, Barbie. You keep going down this road, you're gonna go up to the roof and jump the hell off. Mind you, it's only five stories high, so that means you'll just wind up back down here, where I, of course, will be the one who has to treat you. And then I'll be forced to jump off the roof, which, as I was suggesting to you, is only five stories high. And are you starting to see a pattern forming here?

Janitor: What's up?
J.D.: [v.o.] Be careful here. Don't give him anything.
J.D.: Nothing. What is up with you, man?
Janitor: I always get this way in the fall. You know, summer's gone, the days are shorter. It just makes me feel so... What's the word?
J.D.: Sad?
Janitor: Yes, that's it. I'm a janitor, so I couldn't think of the word "sad." I was going to say "it makes me feel so mop."
J.D.: Let me explain. I-
Janitor: Go ahead. I'm mopping.
J.D.: Maybe I shouldn't bother.
Janitor: Maybe you mopn't.

J.D.: Rough day, huh? Well, maybe it would help to share with someone.
Carla: OK, you want in? You want me to open up?
J.D.: I think I can handle it.
Carla: Fine.
[fantasy: Carla peels back her forehead, revealing a white, glowing source of heat:]
Carla: I don't like the way I look, I don't like the way I think, I don't like the way I feel about how I look and think.
[Carla's brain shoots a heat ray at J.D.'s face, which melts]
Carla: I have too much hair, my boobs are too low, my butt is too big, and I am too short.
[reality:]
Carla: Plus, I woke up and cried because I thought I was getting wrinkles, but it turns out I just fell asleep on Turk's corduroy pants.

J.D.: [v.o.] And some teams never really seem to get together.
Elliot: Dr. Cox, I'm so glad I caught you-
Dr. Cox: And there it is again. That ringing in my ears. It's kind of an "aaaaaaay", but it's more piercing like an "eeeeeeeee".
J.D.: She's just trying to ask you a question.
Dr. Cox: Now, you, you're more of a low-pitched "ooh-gah-ooh-gah-ooh-gah". It's more masculine, which, quite frankly, is surprising, considering the source, but make no mistake, oh, just equally annoying. Luckily, though, I know how to make the pain go away. [exits] Ah, much better.

Mr. Hogan: Who can say no to 49-cent cheeseburgers?
Carla: Sure, but tack on the cost of the medicine, your room, and pumping your stomach, and that 49-cent cheeseburger's gonna run you in the neighborhood of $1,300.
Mr. Hogan: See, that's how they get you.
Carla: That's right.

Elliot: Anyway, if you want, I could talk to his wife. Because I just really enjoy that kind of stuff.
Dr. Cox: Wait a minute. Are you actually saying you enjoy telling people their spouses are going to die?
Elliot: ... Yep. I mean, I know that sounds a little bit weird, but I just really like being there for people. It's kind of why I became a doctor in the first place.
Dr. Cox: Well, it's nice to know where the magic began. [laughs] There you go.

Dr. Kelso: So, how are my girls today? Fantastic. Listen...
Carla: Dr. Kelso, if you're here to do one of your "How are my girls today, now let me tell you some things you don't want to hear" routines, I should warn you I'm in a mood, so it's probably in your best interest to make up some lame excuse, turn around and leave.
Dr. Kelso: Young lady, I will not be spoken to like that. [Carla stares him down] Luckily for you, I have to go see Miss Fitzstrafoler down in the foforopolous.
Carla: Attaboy.

Bonnie: So I'm doing a nissen gastric fundoplication, and you're doing yet another appendectomy. How fun for you.
Turk: Please, you call that smack talk? You should have asked me how it feels to be so far below you I wouldn't be able to read "Suck it, Turk" if you wrote it on the bottom of your shoe.
Bonnie: OK. How does that feel?
Turk: Damn.

Carla: You see, that's what's really bothering me.
J.D.: What? Turk and Bonnie? They hate each other.
Carla: Then why's he doing his "You're so getting a piece of this" dance?
J.D.: He's not. That's his "In your face" dance. Or it's his "There's a sale on lotion" dance. I don't know. He's got so many dances.

Janitor: Fork. Me can't eat soup! Aaaah!
J.D.: Look, I don't think you're stupid, OK? Your job requires a lot of know-how. It's not like you're ladling out sloppy joes or something. [Troy ladles out J.D.'s sloppy joes] You know, my uncle was a "joer." Yeah.
Janitor: Troy, let me fill you in on this guy.