Janitor: Doctor.
J.D.: Janitor. What's that smell?
Janitor: I don't know. Although it smells a little bit like the truth. My poor wife slaved over these.
J.D.: She just cut off a pair of scrubs and hemmed the bottom. What's the big deal?
Janitor: What's the big deal? Well, the Lord didn't bless my wife with all ten fingers. She's only got pointer and thumb-pinky.

Dr. Cox: Nine pounds in a week? Let me ask you a quick question. Are you trying to make my head explode? Because you have no idea just how frustrating it is working your ass off trying to inflate a tiny little balloon inside someone's clogged artery and all that person has to do, really, is, oh, I don't know, go for a walk in the morning or choke down a fresh green salad and you come back here looking like that. And I know, I know. Here I am, supposed to be Dr. Give-A-Crap. But you wanna know the God's honest truth? And this is a fact. You are what you eat. And you clearly went out and devoured a big fat guy, didn't ya?

Dr. Cox: Okay, Mr. Weisfelner, the angioplasty went well. But here's the thing. It is on you, partner. You got to start watching what you eat so that we can kick this thing in the ass, okay?
J.D.: It's on you, partner.
Dr. Cox: Oh, gosh, Shannon. Thank you so much for clarifying my point by repeating it word for word. Now, in a reciprocal gesture, can I be included in the planning of your coming-out party?
J.D.: Is that a gay joke?
Dr. Cox: No, it's a cotillion joke. My God, Newbie, it's been two furiously frustrating years. How is it possible that you still don't get me? I would never compare you to the gays. I like the gays. I like their music. I like their sense of style. I especially like what they've done with Halloween. But our thing is that you're a little girl. That's who you are. But that's not really not fair....