Eleanor: Oh, hey, twerps, we have an hour before we have to pretend to be tortured by Vicky. You want to hang out? We could work on our forced grins. Check mine out. [forced laugh] This place is miserable, et cetera.
Tahani: That sounds fun.
Eleanor: Right?
Tahani: But I was gonna dive into next week's reading, I'm afraid. Sorry. Jason, do you, um, care to join?
Jason: Sure, dog.
Eleanor: You're doing extra-credit work?
Jason: What can I say? This class is more fun than I thought.

Eleanor: Michael's not going to learn how to be a good person overnight. He's not even a person. He's just a bunch of evil shoved up the butt of an evil mannequin, you know. Teaching him to be good... it's like... teaching me how to be not hot. How would you even do it? You'd have me hunch or something and then stand there and say "Gurp. Gurp. Gurp."? I don't even know. I can't even picture it because I've been hot my whole life.
Chidi: I'm sorry. Who is this conversation for again?
Eleanor: It's for you. I believe in you, nerd boy. If you can teach me and Jason ethics, you can teach anybody.

Tahani: Janet?
Janet: [appears] Hi, there.
Tahani: If I were to tell you something personal about myself, you couldn't tell anyone about it, right?
Janet: Right.
Tahani: So, in a way, you're sort of like a therapist.
Janet: Absolutely not. A therapist is a trained medical professional with the ability to absorb and process complex ideas about human emotion. I am simply a vessel containing all of the knowledge in the universe.
Tahani: Close enough. Jason and I are sleeping together.
Janet: Okay.
Tahani: Obviously, no one can ever know. I mean, I wouldn't shag Jason if he were the last man on Earth. But... well, he sort of is, and I am... shagging him, I mean. And I think I'm losing my mind, so please help me.
Janet: Well, my job is to make your experience here in the afterlife more enjoyable, so I will try to help you. I am going to need some time to read every book ever written about human psychotherapy. And now I've done that, so let's begin. Have a seat. [soft ding] Hi, I'm your therapist, Janet.

Michael: So let's try again, hmm? [snaps fingers]
Chidi: Oh, uh, I-I thought maybe we would have a discussion.
Michael: No, the whole point is to play out the scenario in real time.
Eleanor: Quick, Chidi! What's your decision?
Chidi: Okay. Okay. I can do this. I am choosing to switch tracks, so that way, I only kill one person.
Michael: Oh, forgot to tell you. This is the scenario where you actually know one of the people. It's your friend Henry there.
Henry: Chidi! How are you, mate?
Chidi: Henry, move!
Henry: Oh, nice trolley.
Chidi: Move out of the way! Henry, move!
Henry: I can't, Chidi. My boots are stuck in the tracks.
Chidi: Henry, move!
Henry: Anyway, long time no...
[Chidi screams as he is covered in blood and catches one of Henry's boots]
Chidi: Oh, my God!
Michael: Again, just a simulation... an almost impossibly lifelike simulation.

Eleanor: Would someone's foot really fly off their body like that? That was kind of cool. [off Chidi's look] Ethically speaking.

Tahani: I need another session with Janet.
Jason: It's my turn. I have a lot of problems, too, you know.
Tahani: Perhaps we could kill two birds with one Janet, as it were. How would you feel about giving Jason and me couples therapy?
Janet: I'd feel great. [Janet's thumb pops off and floats into the air]
Tahani: Janet, what's happening?
Janet: Unclear. My guess is I'm operating in a way I'm not designed for, and it's creating a small glitch. But if I'm helping you guys, I say... "What has one thumb and wants to keep going?" This not-lady. Eh? Eh?

Michael: Okay, so that was Trolley Problem version number seven. Chidi opted to run over five William Shakespeares instead of one Santa Claus.
Eleanor: Okay, as much as I'm enjoying watching random people's heads fly off, I think we've taken this trolley thing as far as it can go.
Michael: You might be right, Eleanor.
Chidi: Thank you.
Michael: Let's try the doctor one.
[After Michael snaps his fingers, the three of them are suddenly in an operating theater with an observation deck.]
Eleanor: Dude, what the fork?

Michael: See? Back home. All good.
Chidi: No. No. Not all good. You keep saying that we need you, or we'll end up getting tortured forever. But then when we do help you out, we still end up getting tortured. I'd rather just be tortured than choose it. You are no longer welcome in my class. Get the fork out!
Michael: But I said "my bad."
Chidi: Out!

Eleanor: You okay? You've been staring at the second page of this book for an hour.
Chidi: When I'm really upset, concentrating on a table of contents helps me calm down. It's like a menu, but the food is words.
Eleanor: Oh, okay.
Chidi: I can't believe I actually thought he wanted to learn from us. What he really wanted was to torture me, using the thing that I love most in the world.
Eleanor: Woven belts? [off Chidi's look] Oh, teaching. Right. I'm sorry about this, Chidi. I made him take the classes, and I feel a little responsible.
Chidi: Oh, no, it's not your fault.
Eleanor: Yeah, you're right. It isn't. And no take-backs.
Chidi: No, a tiger can't change his stripes. This is what he always wanted... me trying desperately to teach him something that he never intended to learn so I'd end up miserable with my glasses all smudged up from sweaty-forehead stress grease.

Janet: Yesterday, Tahani gave us her reasons not to take this relationship public. Tahani, what do you value about Jason?
Tahani: Well, he's thoughtful... picks flowers and brings them to me. Often they're ones I've just planted, but...
Jason: That's how I know they fresh.
Tahani: He's the least self-aware person I've ever met. He has massive amounts of unearned confidence and is utterly unaware of his own absurdity. Therefore, quite good at sex.