Elaine: Oh, hi, Mr. Peterman. Do you realize how short the Kalahari Bushmen are? I'm going to look like a giant to those guys. [laughs]
J. Peterman: I'm afraid I have some bad news, Elaine. It appears you will not be accompanying me to Africa.
Elaine: What? Why not?
J. Peterman: I'm afraid it's your urine, Elaine. You tested positive for opium.
Elaine: Opium?
J. Peterman: That's right, Elaine. White lotus. Yam-yam. Shanghai Sally.
Elaine: That's impossible, I've never done a drug in my life. Dr. Strugatz must have made a mistake.
J. Peterman: Not a chance. I'm afraid I'll just have to find someone else to accompany me on my journey. The dark continent is no place for an addict, Elaine.

Elaine: Mr Peterman! What are you doing?
J. Peterman: Elaine, you're out of control. You need help.
Elaine: Huh?
J. Peterman: I know what you're going through. I, too, once fell under the spell of opium. It was 1979. I was travelling the Yangtze in search of a Mongolian horsehair vest.
Elaine: Oh, for God's sake.
J. Peterman: I had got to the market after sundown. All of the clothing traders had gone. But a different sort of trader still lurked about. "Just a taste," he said. That was all it took.
Elaine: Mr. Peterman, I don't know what's going on here. I am not addicted to anything.
J. Peterman: Oh, Elaine. The toll road of denial is a long and dangerous one. The price? Your soul. Oh, and by the way, you have till 5:00 to clear out your desk. You're fired.

J. Peterman: You know, George, growing up as a boy in Costa Rica, I heard a rumor that mama had taken a lover. Perhaps Bosco was this man's name.

J. Peterman: That noise. That's the noise.
Elaine: What?
J. Peterman: That infernal rattling sound that has plagued me these past two days, and I could not find the source. In my office, in the hallway. Even in the men's room. Shame on you, Elaine!
Elaine: No, no, Mr. Peterman that wasn't me!
J. Peterman: That reminds me of the Haitian Voodoo rattle torture! You haven't gone over to their side have you?
Elaine: No, Mr. Peterman.
J. Peterman: Because, if I hear one more rattle - just one - you're out on your can. And if you are undead, I'll find out about that too.

Elaine: [sobbing] Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I don't even know where I'm going.
J. Peterman: Well, that's the best way to get someplace you've never been.
Elaine: Yes, I suppose that's true.
J. Peterman: Have you been crying?
Elaine: Yes. [sobbing] You see, this woman, this manicurist…
J. Peterman: Oh, no. That doesn’t matter now. That's a very nice jacket.
Elaine: Uh, thanks.
J. Peterman: Very soft, huge button flaps, cargo pockets, draw string waist, deep bi-swing vents in the back perfect for jumping into a gondola.
Elaine: How do you know all that?
J. Peterman: That's my coat.
Elaine: You mean...?
J. Peterman: Yes, I'm J. Peterman.
Elaine: Oh!

J. Peterman: Then, in the distance, I heard the bulls, and I began running as fast as I could. Fortunately, I was wearing my Italian capto oxfords. Sophisticated yet different, without making a huge fuss about. Rich dark brown calfskin leather. Matching linen vamp. Men's whole and half sizes 7 through 13, price $135.
Elaine: Oh, that's not too expensive.
J. Peterman: I like that shirt. Where did you get it?
Elaine: Oh, this innocent looking shirt has something which isn't innocent at all. Touchability. Heavy, silky Italian cotton, with a fine almost terrycloth-like feeling. Five-button placket, relaxed fit, innocence and mayhem at once.
J. Peterman: That's not bad!

J. Peterman: And there, tucked into the river's bend was the object of my search. The Guangia River Market. Fabrics and spices traded under a starlit sky. It was there that I discovered the Pamplona Beret. Sizes seven-and-a-half through eight-and-three-quarters. Price, $35.
George: How about sports? Do you follow sports?

Kramer: Look, I need the keys to your apartment, I gotta take a shower.
Elaine: What's wrong with your shower?
Kramer: There's no water pressure.
Elaine: Why don't you just go see Jerry?
[Mr. Peterman walks down the corridor and pauses as he overhears Elaine and Kramer's conversation]
Kramer: Jerry's got nothing. Newman's got nothing. You're the only one I know who's got the good stuff, and I need it bad, baby, cause I feel like I got bugs crawling up my skin. Now you gotta help me out.
J. Peterman: Not on my watch! [grabs Kramer] I won't have you turning my office into a den of iniquity! Get your fix somewhere else! [throws Kramer out] Go on, beat it!

J. Peterman: [on the phone] So, as a result of your test being free of opium, I am reinstating you.
Elaine: Oh, yes! What a load off. So when are we going to Africa?
J. Peterman: I'm afraid I can't take you.
Elaine: What? Why not?
J. Peterman: Elaine, according to your urine analysis, you're menopausal. You have the metabolism of a sixty-eight year old woman.
Elaine: But I wanted to see the Bushmen.
J. Peterman: Oh, and one more thing. You may have osteoporosis.

J. Peterman: You know what a huge fan I am of John F. Kennedy.
Elaine: I do.
J. Peterman: It was the Peace Corps that gave me my start in this business. Clothing the naked natives of Bangtubesh.
Elaine: The pygmy pullover.
J. Peterman: Sotheby's is having an auction of JFK's memorabilia. One item in particular has caught my eye. The presidential golf clubs. To me, they capture that indefinable romance that was Camelot