Turk: Yeah, I know who screwed this up. It's that same lazy-ass admitting nurse that mixed up my files. And there she is. I'm gonna go get her.
J.D.: Turk, I can fight my own battles.
Turk: You're not gonna write her one of your angry notes, are you? Because she doesn't deserve it.
J.D.: I lost my thesaurus.
Turk: Oh, well, you go get her then.

Turk: My friend needs you to check on the Ben Sullivan file, and you're gonna do it right now. Why? Because you are not gonna drop the ball like you did on my patient.
J.D.: You said, "Drop the ball."
Turk: I know, totally by accident. [laughs] Chop-chop, Nancy.
J.D.: Rapido!

J.D.: I'm just asking you to check, Franklyn, and see if you could've made a mistake.
Franklyn: Look, I've worked here seven years and I've never made a mistake.
Elliot: You mixed up my patients' urine samples yesterday!
Franklyn: Okay, I make lots of mistakes. But I really have to go to the bathroom now, and, after that, I'm going to lunch.

Carla: Why so sad, Bambi?
J.D.: Because so far no one's screwed up. The admissions clerk obviously didn't make a mistake and the lab technician didn't make a mistake. Maybe I'm just an idiot. I don't know.
Carla: Let me ask you something. You're kind of a boob guy, right?
J.D.: Excuse me?
Carla: I can tell because I've seen you look at mine. Not in a sleazy way, or anything.
J.D.: I think this is the most uncomfortable conversation I've had.
Carla: You want to touch one?
J.D.: I stand corrected. You're my best friend's girlfriend.
Carla: So your instinct is to pass on this fantastic one-time offer?
J.D.: I'm afraid so.
Carla: I'm up here, Bambi.
J.D.: Oh, sorry.
Carla: See, with Ben, it's one of two things. Either your instincts are right or your brain is trying to protect you from something. I say, you have pretty good instincts. Trust them.
J.D.: What am I supposed to do though?
Carla: You know there's only one more person to talk to.

J.D.: [v.o.] The haematopathologist.
J.D.: Hello?
Dr. Bobb: Call me Dr. Bobb.
J.D.: You go by your first name?
Dr. Bobb: Nope. First name's Fred.
J.D.: Fred Bobb?

Ben: Sorry there, giant '70s security guard guy. Cold out here, huh?
J.D.: Yes.
Ben: Yeah. You could hang a friggin' raincoat off my nipples. Left one at least. I mean, the right one's just a little shy.
J.D.: Sticking with the weird thing?
Ben: It works for me. Listen, you guys wouldn't be keeping me here if there wasn't something potentially wrong with me, would you?
J.D.: No, we wouldn't.
Ben: Hey, how come this guy is always following you in the pictures?
J.D.: Oh, my God.
Ben: Him. Hey, want to see the rest of the pictures I took today? Look at that one.
J.D.: These are good, man.

Dr. Cox: [whistles] Janice!
Ben: Over here, big guy.
Dr. Cox: Let's try this again. Are those the test results?
J.D.: Yeah. Ben, you have leukemia.
Ben: That sucks.
J.D.: Yeah.

Elliot: Drew Barrymore, Meg Ryan, Jennifer Connelly.
J.D.: Boys on the Side, The Doors, and as for Ms. Connelly, topless in Inventing the Abbotts, bottomless in Requiem For a Dream, and in The Hot Spot, you gotta love her, frontal and tush-tush.
Carla: [o.s.] Oh, my God!
Turk: You the man.

Ben: Kim Basinger.
J.D.: Please. Nine 1/2 Weeks. Winona Ryder.
Ben: Never naked, but just a hint of nipple in How to Make an American Quilt.
J.D.: Good. At last, a worthy foe.