Dr. Kelso: After you, sir.
Simon Reid: Well, I'll be. I haven't seen a ward like this since Vietnam.
Dr. Kelso: So where in Connecticut was your National Guard unit stationed?
Simon Reid: Amusing.
Dr. Kelso: I thought so.

Elliot: I think they're totally getting along, don't you?
[fantasy: Dr. Kelso and Dr. Simon Reid are boxing in the ICU:]
Simon Reid: I'm about to open a fat can of whup-ass on you.
Dr. Kelso: Bring it on, bitch.

Elliot: Can you believe my dad winked at me!
J.D.: I mean, if that's not saying, "I love you, I'm proud of you," I'm not sure what is.
Elliot: I know! Let me tell you, there are no gratuitous winks in the Reid household.

J.D.: [v.o.] And that's when I decided to take a chance.
Sam Dorian: [on the phone] Are you kidding? I'd love to come to your heart murmur lecture. I'm a big fan of those things.
J.D.: That means a lot, Dad.

J.D.: Hi, Mrs. Turk.
Margaret Turk: John Dorian, get over here. After all these years, are you still afraid of me?
J.D.: Well, you remember on Thanksgiving when I said your turkey was dry, and you picked me up and shook me.
Margaret Turk: Well, then don't say that.
Carla: Silly Bambi.

Sam Dorian: Well, work is great, Johnny. I like to believe that I'm selling dreams.
J.D.: But, Dad, you sell office supplies.
Sam Dorian: Yeah, yeah, I prefer to call them dreams. I'm gonna steal another Jell-O.

Turk: I told my mom you like that Cuban restaurant. She loves Cuban food-
Carla: I hate that restaurant.
Turk: Wow. So I really must have misunderstood you when you said you loved the place and you wanted to be buried in a vat of pltanos so you could eat your way out.
Carla: See? That's our problem. You don't get me.
Turk: No argument there.

Janitor's Father: Hey, hey, hey! You missed a spot, right there.
Janitor: Well, lucky for me, Dad, I spend my life going in a circle around this place cleaning up after the sick. So tomorrow I'll probably be here at the same time.
Janitor's Father: You know that I hate sass, so drop right down and give me 20.
Janitor: Dad, that could be fecal matter.
Janitor's Father: Make it 30.
Janitor: Fine.

Dr. Cox: Now, you've got to at least try and pace yourself, Newbie. Otherwise, sure as shooting, you're gonna burn out. Come. Oh, I heard the sad sigh, I see your shoulders are slumped, and I'm aware that you have some problem you want to talk to me about. You probably think it'll be cathartic to get it off your chest, but believe me, it won't be. What you've got to do, for me, is the healthy thing. Keep all of your feelings bottled up inside where they so belong.

J.D.: [v.o.] Part of me thought Cox was wrong. I had every reason to be angry with my father.
Man: So, how's it going down there?
J.D.: If it's OK with you, we just won't talk right now. Got a needle. Need to focus.
J.D.: [v.o.] But then I stopped thinking of my dad as a father and started thinking of him as a man. And I realized some things that deep down I probably always knew. Like, maybe he wasn't crashing on my couch to spend more quality time with me but because he couldn't afford a hotel room. And maybe he wasn't going to see his buddy Jake to catch up, but because Jake was someone he might be able to sell something to, and he really needs a sale. And maybe the truth is he's just a middle-aged, lonely guy struggling to get by, and it sure would be nice if someone gave him a break once in a while.