Elliot: I'm so sorry that they're forcing you out. I feel horrible.
Dr. Kelso: Aw, sweetheart, you should. It's your fault.
Elliot: Look, I'll talk to the Board. I am so great at changing people's minds. My best friend in college thought he was gay, but I totally convinced him that he was into women. After that, he had a ton of girlfriends. Until senior year when he hung himself.
Dr. Kelso: Why is it that so many of your stories end with, "And then he hung himself"?
Elliot: Bad luck, I guess.

J.D.: [v.o.] After putting a beat down on Turk, the last thing I wanted to do was be lame and hide in a supply closet.
[Turk laughs as he opens the supply closet, only to find it's empty]
J.D.: [v.o.] That's why I chose down here.
J.D.: Why are you here?
Doug: After all these years of putting on toe tags, I sort of developed a foot fetish. And you get tired of looking at dead ones, you know?
J.D.: No, Doug, I don't.

Carla: It's too bad we can't just call John's brothers and tell them that he needs them.
Elliot: I know. Stupid doctor-patient confidentiality. It's like wearing a muzzle. Like last month, one of my patients asks out Nurse Rollins, and I couldn't even warn her that I'm treating the guy for a horrible case of mono. Now she has it and her grandfather has it. I don't know, she wouldn't say.

Janitor: I'm gonna be writing all the editorials, okay? On issues like union strife, insurance scams, baby wolf men. What I need is an investigative reporter, yeah? Somebody who is bland enough and insignificant enough that he'd be listening in on a private conversation, get the secrets, but no one would even notice he was there.
Ted: I'll do it.
Janitor: You been sitting there this whole time?
Ted: No. First I was in your chair and you sat on my lap, remember? I said, "Excuse me." And you said, "Get up and sit over there," and I did. Right? And... Hey, Janitor.
Janitor: Oh, hey, Ted.

Janitor: Well, it's official. The Janitorial is a hit. But no time to rest. We got to get another issue out before lunch.
Doug: But we just put one out this morning.
Janitor: Doug, The Janitorial is a tri-daily. But let's hold out on the meeting until Ted gets here.
Ted: I'm right here. I bought you that scone.
Janitor: Huh, I thought the manager gifted it to me for not running that expos on how Coffee Bucks beans are picked by dirty river monkeys. [Ted spits out his coffee] I'm kidding, Ted. [Ted drinks] Actually, I wasn't kidding. [Ted spits out]

Dr. Cox: Hey, Mop For Brains, I was reading your paper online while I was on the toilet and- Yeah, I squat and surf.
Janitor: Oh, it's the best.
Dr. Cox: Anyway, did you happen to notice what one of your so-called correspondents put on there?
Janitor: "Dr. Cox admitted that his callous outer shell is just protecting a fragile inner core of sadness. 'If I seem angry, I'm really just wishing people would give me a warm hug or pat me on the back and say, I'm right with you, man!'" Yeah, I did happen to catch that, while I was writing it.
Dr. Cox: I never gave you an interview.
Janitor: I don't see that that's relevant.
Dr. Cox: Why am I even bothering with this? Nobody ever believes what you put on these things anyway.
Janitor: Really? People believe everything they see online. "Apples linked to hair loss." And post. [Ted spits out apple] I'm kidding, Ted.

J.D.: You know, you didn't have to save me from Mrs. Cropper's husband. I could've handled him.
Turk: How? By ramming your face into his fists over and over again?
J.D.: You make jokes, but I did that to Paul Edwards in college, and who won that fight? He broke two knuckles, but I only fractured one skull. Scoreboard, Turk. Scoreboard!
Turk: He did have to wear that goofy hand brace for a while.
J.D.: Yeah, I don't remember that, but I am still missing some large chunks from that year.

J.D.: Well, where is it? Did you at least keep it?
Turk: Why would I keep my testicle?
[fantasy: J.D. and Turk have a dug a whole in the ground:]
J.D.: These conditions are perfect. [they drop the testicle and cover it with dirt]
[months later, a naked version of Turk, with a leaf covering his privates, has sprouted from the ground]
J.D.: He's beautiful.
Turk: Oh, my God. This is totally awesome. Can you go pick up Carla's dry cleaning so I can play basketball?
Plant Turk: [mumbles]
Turk: It can't talk. What the hell am I gonna do with that?
J.D.: Stop, Turk. You're making him cry. It's okay, Plant Turk. Friends.
Plant Turk: [mumbles "friend"]
J.D.: See? He's learning.
[Plant Turk grabs J.D.]
J.D.: Get the clippers! Get the clippers!
Turk: Let him go! Let him go!
[reality:]
J.D.: We have to find your ball, Turk. We have to find it and destroy it.
Turk: You don't realize that Carla and Elliot left, do you?

Elliot: Look at him, he's dying in there. I mean, emotionally, not dying dying. Although, he could be. I haven't seen his full blood work yet. Good, he's not dying. But he is.

J.D.: [v.o.] Wow, Turk's pretty quick without that testicle weighing him down. I wonder if Olympic athletes have ever thought of that.
[fantasy: an Olympic Athlete chats to a doctor:]
Olympic Athlete: Take them both off and I'll bring home the gold. Hell, if it makes a difference, you can even take off my...
[reality: J.D. crashes into a supply cart]
J.D.: Damn it! Never fantasize while running. You know that.