Dr. Cox: All right, everybody, gather around here. Circle it up, will you? Bring it in nice and tight. Look, I know I'm pretty quick to point out other people's mistakes, but I have a son now, and I also realize that it's important to recognize when someone does something right. Mr. Blake, down in bed 3, came in here with what seemed like a basic heart block, but someone took the time to find out that recently he'd been camping, and correctly diagnosed him with Lyme carditis. Now, I'm sure some of you are gonna think this is a silly exercise, but I'd like that someone to step forward and stick your hand up in the air so that the group can recognize your great good work. This- This is no time to be modest. Come now. [Dr. Cox raises his hand] Oh, my god, it was me! I did it. I'm a genius. I'm a huge brain in a ripped-up body. I am Jesus H. Cox., M.D.

Turk: I am going to yank that gallbladder out of you so fast that your spleen is gonna say to your kidney, "what the hell happened to Frank?!" That's right, your kidney named your gallbladder Frank. I don't want you to worry about this another second, Mr. Hoffner, ok? 'Cause I'm the man! I am the man.

Elliot: Oh, god!
Jake: What is it? I just locked the door when a black guy walked by. Now he's gonna think that I think he's dangerous because he's black, and not just black, but with an actual 'fro and everything, which, trust me, I don't find scary at all. Not like the zigzags and the corn rows and stuff. My night's ruined.
Jake: No, it isn't.
[Jake reverses the car, spins it around and pulls up alongside the man:]
Jake: Hey, did you think she was locking the door because you're black?
Man: No, I just thought she was locking the door.
Jake: Thanks, man. Better?
Elliot: Coolio. Let's go get some ice cream.