Dr. Cox: You gotta make this stop. Why're you torturing me?
Janitor: Because you called me stupid. Now, I've been called a great many horrible names in my life, backstabber, zebra poacher, Josh. And I've accepted these because to each of them there is a degree of truth. But I am not, nor will I ever be, stupid.
Dr. Cox: Fair enough. I'm very sorry.
Janitor: Apology accepted. Now how about an interview with the real Dr. Cox?
Dr. Cox: Fine, let's just crank this out.
Janitor: Oh, you don't have to be here.
Dr. Cox: Beg your pardon?
Janitor: Off you go. It's all up here.

J.D.: [v.o.] Mrs. Cropper wasn't the only one showing aggression. Ever since Turk visited his brother last month, he'd been more alpha male than ever.
Turk: All right, we all know the rules of remote wrestling. Last man standing decides what we watch.
Todd: Man rumble? [in banana hammock] I got next.

[Dr. Kelso and a man stare at each other intently]
Dr. Kelso: No. I don't care that you've been waiting two hours to be helped. Thank you for letting me think about it.

Dr. Kelso: Anybody have an idea how we can calm down the clientele when we're this backed up?
Janitor: You know what would work? Duck pond. Right here.
Dr. Kelso: I can't believe I've never said this to you: Nobody cares what you think.

Janitor: Listen, guys. It's come to my attention that nobody around here cares what we think.
Doug: Tell me about it. Like, I thought it'd be cute if, down in the morgue, we got Hello Kitty toe tags. You know, for the dead kids? But, no.
Janitor: Exactly. Sort of. I've figured out a way to get our voices heard. Okay? It's a little newsletter called... Brace ourselves. Seriously, brace yourselves. The Janitorial. Now, what I'm thinking we can do. Un-brace yourselves. Un-brace. There we go.

Elliot: "Rate Dr. Reid's butt"? Yes, 9.2! Thank God this hospital is full of white guys.
Dr. Kelso: [on the phone] Calm down, Enid. It's not my fault that I'm being forced out of my job. The Board found out about my age because Dr. Reid just had to throw a birthday party for me. Now, Enid, I've got to go back to work. [Elliot comes out of the stall] Don't be too pleased with that 9.2. That's out of 100.

J.D.: Dr. Cox, can Sam watch West Side Story? It helps him fall asleep.
J.D.: [v.o.] And it makes my heart sing.
Dr. Cox: Fine, but absolutely no singing or dancing along. And I will throw my coffee at you if I catch you even once doing this... [snaps]
J.D.: [v.o.] All right, I'll just do it in my head, then.

[After a title screen featuring a spinning front-page of The Janitorial over music]
Ted: How do you get it to spin so well?
Janitor: You got to make sure the pen's right in the middle. Check it out. [hums music]

Turk: We made the front page.
J.D.: I know. It's awesome. Now there's no doubt who the best buds in the whole hospital are. Tracy and Stacy can suck it.
Turk: Dude.
[Two small girls wearing oxygen tubes are holding each other's hands]
J.D.: Oh, sorry, Tracy and Stacy. I see you guys are wearing each other's oxygen tubes. That's cute. All right, they win.

Dr. Cox: Wait a minute. Let me see if I've got this right. The front-page story about your humiliating ass-kicking doesn't bother you at all? You're the only one your son has to model himself after when he's trying to figure out how to be a man, and seeing the occasional poster of Paul Mitchell whenever you take him by the beauty salon isn't going to cut it.
J.D.: Well, it's unfortunate that all children can't have the amazing role model that you are, Mr. Borderline Alcoholic.
J.D.: [v.o.] Nailed him! It's great having silver bullets like that on everyone in the hospital.
Nurse: You sure told him.
J.D.: Thanks, Herpes.