Elliot: Look who's back, Mrs. Goldstein. It's Dr. Cox.
Mrs. Goldstein: How was Acapulco?
Elliot: We told everyone you were in Acapulco.
Dr. Cox: I never went to Acapulco, Mrs. Goldstein. I lost three patients and spent the last two weeks on my couch trying to drink myself to death so that my victims and I could be reunited in the afterlife and they could rightly have their vengeance. Then, I realized that that tactic would never work, as I'd be sent straight to hell, which, I imagine is actually a lot like Acapulco, only there would be fewer Latin men trying to sell me Chiclets on the beach. All the best.

Elliot: Did you guys just see that? Dr. Cox had to make a decision, he completely froze.
Carla: He's probably just thinking it over, Elliot.
Elliot: He never used to think things over. He would just make gut calls right away.
Dr. Kelso: Listen, Reid, normally any damage to Dr. Cox's oversized ego would be cause for celebration. And yet, for some reason, I'm not wearing a party hat, sitting bare-ass on the hospital's copier machine. You know why? It's not because I have "Johnny" tattooed on my butt. He was an old Navy buddy and if you went through what we did, you'd understand.
J.D.: [v.o.] Again with the déjà vu.
Dr. Kelso: It's because your little theory is way off.

J.D.: Dude, I'd be a mess if I had to give up my joe. I have a full-blown addiction. Hopefully, that won't come back to haunt me.
[fantasy: a mustachioed J.D. finds a coffee maker under his teenage son's bed:]
J.D.: Where did you get this? Who taught you how to use this thing?
Billy: You, all right? I learned from watching you!
J.D.: Damn it, Billy! At least he's using good beans.
[reality:]
J.D.: Guess I'm gonna look like a porn star when I'm older.