Michael Scott: How can I get you to stay?
Stanley: Money.
Michael Scott: Yeah, we all want money. But there is none in the budget, so... Tell me why you're really leaving.
Stanley: Money.
Michael Scott: Mo money mo problems, Stanley. You of all people should know that. Let me ask you this: If I were-
Stanley: Money.

Michael Scott: You cannot take the hilarious black guy from the office. Stanley is part of what makes this branch so extraordinary. The bluesy wisdom, the sassy remarks, the crossword puzzles, the smile, those big watery red eyes. I don't know how George Bush did it when Colin Powell left, and if Utica thinks that they are going to poach Stanley, they have another thing coming.

Stanley: Michael, a word?
Michael Scott: Of course.
Stanley: I changed my mind, I wanna keep this job.
Michael Scott: Really?
[aside to camera:]
Stanley: I wasn't really planning on leaving, all I wanted was a raise. How on Earth did Michael call my bluff? Is he some sort of secret genius? [laughing] Sometimes I say crazy things.

Jim: [in an Irish accent] Angela's Ashes, top o' the morning to us. Frankie's prose is funnier than a pot of gold, say I.
Oscar: Okay. Did you get it out of your system?
Jim: Yep. No, I mean I really liked it. I thought was a fun read.
Toby: Fun? Really?
Jim: Yeah.
Toby: What was fun about it for you? Was it the death of the twins?
Jim: No, that wasn't fun.
Toby: Did you even read it?
Jim: Of course I read it.
Oscar: How does it end?
Toby: Who was the main character?
Jim: Angela. Nope. The ashes.

Karen: I am the regional manager of Dunder-Mifflin Utica branch. Turns out it's a pretty easy gig when your boss isn't an idiot and your boyfriend's not in love with somebody else.

Karen: I cried for weeks over that guy, so yeah, seeing him climb out of a PT Cruiser in a ladies warehouse uniform felt pretty good.

Oscar: Besides having sex with men, I would say that the Finer Things Club is the gayest thing about me.

Andy: The Finer Things Club is the most exclusive club in this office. Naturally, it's where I need to be. The party planning committee is my back up, and Kevin's band is my safety.

Oscar: And George, his youthfulness. His, um, freedom. Evokes, um, feelings- [shouting] What are you microwaving?
Phyllis: Popcorn.
Pam: Why don't you use the microwave in the kitchen, Phyllis?
Phyllis: Someone needs to clean it. It smells like popcorn.

Michael Scott: This is perfect!
Dwight K. Schrute: He looks like your twin.
Michael Scott: This is a dummy, a la "Ferris Bueller's Day Off". We have tied a string to the wrist, which goes to the door. When somebody opens the door, the hand goes down, hits the remote, turns on the tape recorder, which is me snoring. Now, nobody knows whether I am here, or whether I am gone.
Dwight K. Schrute: I will know.
Michael Scott: But you will not tell anyone.
Dwight K. Schrute: I won't need to because we'll be together playing hooky.
Michael Scott: Yeah. Well, sometimes. Most of the time I will be with Ryan, or Darryl.