Elliot: Doug, I'm sorry, but I don't think you're cut out for being a doctor.
Pathologist: I cannot figure out how this guy died.
Doug: I'm betting he took a paracentesis needle to the aorta.
Pathologist: Have you seen this before?
Doug: Seen it? Upstairs they call that a "Doug"!
Elliot: You got any others you can't figure out?
[montage:]
Doug: Doctor prescribed overdosage of Fentanyl.
Doug: Dissected left main during a cardiac catheterization.
Doug: We look under Mr. Pancreas and there it is. [pulls out a bloody glove]
Pathologist: He's the best I've ever seen. Mind if we steal him from you?
Elliot: I can live with it.
Doug: Well, my work here is done. [removes gloves and throws them in the corpse's cavity]
Elliot: I'll get those.

Dr. Kelso: Miss Broderick.
Neena: Bob. Oh, hi, Ted, how's your wife doing? [Ted is silent] Oh, that's right, I forgot you freeze up around me. Okay. Well, I'll see you in court on the eighteenth. [walks away]
J.D.: [v.o.] Ted's possum-like defense mechanism was actually quite brilliant.
Ted: Hello, Neena. We got divorced, actually. I'll see you in court on the eighteenth!

Elliot: Carla, when I became chief resident, I wrote a pledge to myself. And do you know what it said? It said "Dance like nobody is watching". Which I do, constantly, in my living room, with the shades closed just in case somebody is watching. But it also said not to hide problems away. So, no, I'm not gonna go and hide Doug down in the morgue.

Janitor: By the way, your number isn't "CALL-TURK", it's "CALL-TUR". It'd be easier if your name was "Cal Turk."
Turk: There's nobody named Cal Turk.
[fantasy, a whiter Turk is in an office cubicle with an elderly couple:]
Cal Turk: Cal Turk here. We don't sell insurance, we sell peace of mind. But only to white people. Would you like some milk?

Turk: J.D., big news. Guess what my new cell phone number spells.
J.D.: Why'd you get a new cell phone number? Your old number spelled "kfnipah".
Turk: Yeah, well this one's 916-CALLTURK. Yeah, so now all you gotta do is call Turk!
J.D.: How am I supposed to remember that? I'm begging you, stick with "kfnipah".
Turk: Come on, man, this is the best thing that's ever happened to me besides getting married.
J.D.: She's not here.
Turk: It's the best thing that's ever happened to me.
J.D.: But "CALLTURK" is eight numbers.
Turk: I know, actually it's just CALLTUR, but I'm hoping people will dial the "K" anyway.
J.D.: I'll always dial the "K" for you.

Doug: [enters room] Elliot, I know everyone thinks I'm this huge screw-up, but I just want you to know that I'm gonna turn it around.
Elliot: Doug, this is a quarantined area!

Neena: So my dad's gonna be okay?
Dr. Cox: He's great.
Neena: Thank you. And I hope I didn't ruffle your feathers too much while I was here.
Dr. Cox: Sweetheart, I find it amusing that you think you're so much as a blip on my radar. You better go ahead and jot this down in your little lawyer notebook: Nothing you could possibly do could ever, hee-hever get to me.
Neena: I should probably thank him, too. [kisses J.D.]
Dr. Cox: Oh, my God. I'm gagging and vomiting at the same time! I'm- I'm gavomiting!

Neena: I have a few questions about my father.
Dr. Cox: Your father has syncope-
J.D.: Per, I'm back in. You see, Neena, the heart is like a big inflatable house. Now, on the bottom floor are these two rooms, or "ventricles". Now, these ventricles - or "rooms"-
Neena: Syncope in the setting of severe LV systolic dysfunction indicates a high risk of arrhythmia. So the best course of action would probably be an implantable defibrillator. I'm a medical malpractice attorney. And I am much, much smarter than you.
J.D.: They're like rooms.

Mr. Corman: I thought that we could head over to my tennis club. I'll show you what's going on with my serve. Can you hop a tall fence? I'm a little behind on my dues.
Turk: Sure, a black guy breaking in to a country club. Mm, nothing bad could happen there.
Mr. Corman: Yeah, fine.

Dr. Kelso: Shake this place up. And for God's sakes, get Murphy out of here.
Carla: Don't worry, Doug, you're a good doctor.
Doug: I know! [hits Carla with charged defib paddles]
[Elliot and J.D. place a medical waste sack over Doug]
Doug: [muffled] Hey, what are you guys going?
Dr. Kelso: Hurry!
Doug: You guys Guys?
[Elliot and J.D. swing the sack back and forth and send it crashing out the window. It lands in front of the Janitor outside the hospital.]
Doug: My leg!
[The Janitor drags the bag away. Later, Doug is framed on his mantelpiece between other taxidermy]
Doug: How long do I have to stay up here?
Janitor: Just until I finish pretending to read the newspaper. Hm! Apparently there was some sort of election held recently.
[reality:]
J.D.: Or we could just ask him to leave.
[Carla stands up after being shocked]
Carla: Come on, Doug. Let's go get some coffee.