George: Hey, guys, I assume you've already met my sharp, young lawyer who is gonna help me with my will.
Ted: You said I could help you. All this work for nothing. [rips paper]
J.D.: Ted! Ted! He means you.
Ted: Oh, man! I did this on my typewriter. I'll be back in 11 hours.

J.D.: [v.o.] I know it seems callous to leave, but whoever takes care of George tonight will be just as compassionate as us.
Denise: Mr. Valentine, I'm Dr. Mahoney. My attending really wants me to connect with my patients so if it's okay with you, I'd thought I'd get the ball rolling in a personal story.
George: Okay, you can call me George.
Denise: Awesome, I'm feeling it. So George, last Friday, I'm at a bar. I take this guy home. He's a little fat, whatever, right? Plus, chubsters are so grateful, they usually try harder. Anyway, right in the middle of things, he's sweating and snorting like a hairy rhino. And I just start to hate myself. Like really, really hate myself. So without even thinking, I just headbutt him, right in the face. Bam, clock him in between the eyes and knock him out cold. So, that's what I got. What do you got going on?
George: I like golf.
J.D.: [v.o.] When you get down to it, taking care of a patient means more than anything. Even Steak Night.
Turk: Hey, George.
J.D.: We'll take it from here, Chuckles.
Turk: Yeah. So long.
George: I think I just saw the Devil.

Turk: And what did you guys do for a living?
George: Barbara taught history. I coached football.
Turk: I played football. Yeah, defense, safety.
George: You?
J.D.: Oh no, I-I didn't, uh, I didn't play sports, per se, George. I was the, uh, mascot for the girls' volleyball team.
George: Really? You wear a costume?
J.D.: Oh, great costume, I wore a bandanna and a half-shirt. At away games, I wear spurs, which, in retrospective, is sort of weird 'cause we weren't the Cowboys.
George: You must have looked very beautiful.
J.D.: I felt beautiful.

Dr. Maddox: Hi. I'm trying to keep a non-medical personnel from coming back here. I'm the Chief of Medicine.
Jordan: And I'm the Chief of Slag Smacking, so I'd keep moving if I were you.
Dr. Maddox: That's very clever.
Jordan: Being clever is not how I got the job. Smacking slags is.
J.D.: [v.o.] Unfortunately for Jordan, Dr. Maddox can zero in on someone's biggest insecurity.
Dr. Maddox: You're old.
Jordan: Oh!

J.D.: For starters, I heard he smokes plants. Still, I need you to connect with your patients, okay? If they need some sympathy, dig down in your soul and find some?
Denise: Yo, Mr. Harris? Sucks you'll never walk again.
Man: [o.s.] Hell yeah, it does.
Denise: Better, right?
J.D.: No, no, Jo. He lost his feet.

Turk: Dude. You've seen the new administrative assistant?
J.D.: [v.o.] For some reason, whenever I see a pretty girl, for the first time, I always imagine her hair blowing in slow-mo. [woman's hair blows] Unfortunately, Turk knows this, so I have to snap out of it before he messes with me.
[Turk tries to clamp a peg to J.D.'s face]
J.D.: Heya! Too slow.
Turk: Dude, I almost had you.
J.D.: Well, score one for J-Dizzle.
[J.D. realizes the pen in his hand has been replaced with a hot dog]
Turk: Ha, hot dog pin! Count it, honkey-face.

J.D.: Listen, you shouldn't be wasting your calories on hot dogs, anyways. For God's sakes, Steak Night is five minutes away.
Turk: Hey. Shall we sing?
J.D.: [v.o.] The Steak Night song was to be sung every Steak Night that had been for the last decade.
J.D.: All clear!
J.D.: [v.o.] The dance was new.
Both: [singing] We're going to Steak Night! We're going to eat it right. Steak is such a treat. It is the world's best We're going to Steak Night! We're going to eat it right.
Nurse: Excuse me, doctors!
J.D.: What is your problem, lady?
Turk: What the heck, yo? Listen to me.
J.D.: We like to do a thing.
Turk: You don't interrupt people-
J.D.: All right, calm down, calm down. We'll finish in the bathroom at the restaurant.

George: Mmm. Nothing like the taste of fresh bag.
J.D.: I just picked it this morning.
George: The only thing that would make it any better is if it was being hooked up by that foxy, little dish over there.
[fantasy: J.D. imagines the elderly, walker-using patient, with her hair blowing back]
J.D.: Damn, my psyche.

Turk: So, Mr. Valentine.
George: Call me George.
Turk: George. What are you in for?
J.D.: [v.o.] We think of hospitals as places where people go to heal. But they're are also places where people go to die. And George was definitely going soon.
J.D.: Ischemic bowel disease. I'm so sorry.
George: Oh hey, I've lived to 70 plus years and I've had a great old time while I was here.
J.D.: [v.o.] He's over 70? Black people have the greatest skin. [J.D. tries to stroke Turk's skin]
Turk: No.

George: But honestly, I don't know why people are so afraid of dying.
Turk: Tell me about it. When you're around death as much as we are, you kinda lose your fear of it.
J.D.: It's one of the benefits of working here. Look, we're on our way out to dinner, but is there anything we can get you before we go?
George: I'd kill for a cigar. You know, I'm dying and I'm not allowed to have a cigar? What are the nurses thinks gonna happen?
J.D.: They're probably thinking you could accidentally ignite that oxygen tank and it would blow up the whole I.C.U, pretty much killing everybody here.
Turk: Boom!
George: How about a beer?