Dr. Kelso: Oops. That's not my drink. It's good, though. Methinks it's quitting time. Good night, gooch. Ted. [shakes hand] Ted?
Ted: That's it? I've been your whipping boy for eight years, and all I get before I disappear forever is a wet, clammy handshake? And, yes, I know that's from my hand, not yours. And, yes, I know that we've never really been friends. And, yes, I know that the Gooch is way too attractive for me. That's not relevant right now. It's just always on my mind. Please don't leave me for a baritone.
Stephanie: I won't.
Dr. Kelso: Ted, I'm so hammered that the only thing I can think about are those 30-cent hot dogs at the gas station, so wrap it up.
Ted: You owe me more than a handshake. Let's go, honey.

J.D.: I can't believe it's been 12 years since we started medical school.
Turk: We're getting old, Kemo Sabe.
Dr. Cox: Well, thank you, Lord. Now you do realize You could've saved yourself a lot of embarrassment and a lot of time and about seven stitches if you'd just admitted to that a little earlier. Of course, it wouldn't have been as much fun for me, and I damn sure wouldn't have gotten this terrific screensaver.
Turk: He's gonna want a copy of that.
J.D.: No, I won't.
J.D.: [v.o.] Hello, Christmas cards!
Dr. Cox: There's nothing wrong with getting older. So do yourself a favor: get a prostate exam, stop wearing ironic t-shirts and just let it happen.

Stephanie: Ted, you're not gonna just walk out without saying good-bye to anyone, are you?
Ted: Aw, nobody cares. [crowd applauds]
J.D.: We're gonna miss you.
Dr. Cox: All the best, Ted.
Dr. Kelso: Is this more like what you were looking for?
Ted: Thank you, sir. Oh, uh, forgot my keys. I'll be right back! Oh, got 'em! [crowd has dispersed] Aw. This is more appropriate.
Dr. Kelso: I'm gonna miss you. Bye, Ted.
Ted: Good-bye, Bob. Well, honey, uh, play me out. [The Gooch plays "The Final Countdown"]

Lucy: [v.o.] Being in med school Is kinda like being in basic training, and the professors are like drill sergeants. Some rule with an iron fist.
Dr. Cox: Do you feel the spit raining down on your face, maggot?! And will you ever forget the excessive production of saliva is a condition known as Sia-lor-rhea! Sialorrhea! Huh!
Lucy: Sir, no, sir!
Lucy: [v.o.] Others carry a big stick.
J.D.: You wanna become a doctor? Well, you're gonna have to work. Work your little scrubs off.
Lucy: is this the speech from Fame?
J.D.: You want fame? Well, fame costs.
Lucy: [v.o.] Our only hope for getting through it, teamwork. Unfortunately, we all just looked out for ourselves.

Dr. Cox: I've decided to no longer refer to you two as "pathetic."
J.D.: Well, thanks, Perry.
Dr. Cox: Instead, since my nephew gave me my very first thesaurus as a birthday present, I'm going to allow you to choose from the following, if you will. Miserable, pitiful, sorry, wretched, deplorable, regrettable or sad.
J.D.: "Wretched" sounds like Dickens. We'll go with wretched.

Turk: Nah, it's just old man doesn't understand two young guns - p-p-p-pow! - out on the town. He doesn't get bro-a-palooza.
J.D.: 8:00 p.m to question mark. That means we don't even know when it ends.
Dr. Cox: So many things to tear apart here, I'll focus on your delusion that you are still young. You're both much closer to 40 than you are 20. Let's face it. You're just like me. Old, tired and you gotta get up a lot at night to take a pee.
J.D.: [v.o.] Is he psychic?

Denise: They're not my med students.
Dr. Cox: They are, because you are their faculty advisor. You will advise them to start working together like a team. And even more importantly, you will teach them to never, ever again lay their grubby paws on my glazed donut. It is the one sprinkled, sugary beacon of light left in my life.

Drew: But they're not my students.
Denise: Actually, they are, because you're their faculty student advisor. So you will advise them that if they want to get through med school, they have to work together. Oh, and don't touch donuts. They're beacons of light or whatever.
Drew: When did I become the student advisor?
Denise: When you slept with the faculty advisor.
Drew: Your mom's the faculty advisor?
Denise: Joke's on you. My mom's dead.
Drew: Really?

Cole: You guys coming to my party?
Lucy: Yes. I cannot wait to wear a dress and have a reason to actually shave again. It is like the friin' amazon down there.
Lucy: [v.o.] Too far, too far, too far.

Cole: Gonna be nuts to butts up in that piece. Big ol' wrangle-dangle!
Drew: Yeah, you're making it sound horrible, but I'm still gonna go. I need to have some fun. I've spent the last three weekends finishing up community service.
[flashback: Drew is in a green dinosaur costume in front of a bunch of prison inmates:]
Drew: I'm sorry. I was under the impression you'd all be much younger.
[reality:]
Drew: Turns out dinosaur costumes are extremely flammable.