David: This was a gift from Lee lacocca. Twenty-year-old single malt Scotch.
Michael Scott: Here is to Mr. Lacocca and his failed experiment, the De Lorean. [choking]
Jan: Are you okay?
Michael Scott: Yeah. Do you have any ice?
David: Sure.
Michael Scott: How about some Splenda?

Michael Scott: You and the missus should join us in Sandals, Jamaica next Christmas.
Jan: Michael, I think David probably wants to spend Christmas here with his family.
Michael Scott: Oh, yeah. They don't allow kids at Sandals. They are persona non grata there. Oh, but it's fun. It is an awesome place. You would not believe how low this girl can limbo. It's crazy.

[As one of David and Rachel's kids awakens in his bed, Dwight is sitting in a rocking chair in the boy's bedroom.]
Dwight K. Schrute: Oh, good. You're up. Hey, who makes this chair?
Kid: I don't know. It was here when I was born.
Dwight K. Schrute: Hmm. I want one. It's really good, solid construction. It's comfortable. What is this, oak?
Kid: I don't know.
Dwight K. Schrute: What do you know?

Michael Scott: Rachel thinks that I brought homemade potato salad. But I just picked it up at the supermarket. It's funny. I wish I could make potato salad that good. It's just potatoes and mayonnaise. There's something wrong with Jan.

Dwight K. Schrute: The chimney's in decent shape. Not great. I found some termite damage in a crawl space and some structural flaws in the foundation. So, all in all, it was a pretty fun cocktail party.

Jan: That's all. I'm just saying I didn't mean it.
Michael Scott: Okay. Fine. I love you, Jan.
Jan: Okay.
[Dwight leans forward from the back seat of the car]
Dwight K. Schrute: Don't break up, you guys. You're great together.

Michael Scott: Magic, magic, magic. And now, Michael the Magic will attempt to escape from extreme bondage. Can he do it? I don't see how he can.
Dwight K. Schrute: I know how. He'll dislocate his shoulder and slip his arm out.
Michael Scott: No. No. Everyone, now count down with me. Three-
Jim: Sorry. Sorry, quick thing. So is it true that if you can't get out, you don't want anyone to help you?
Michael Scott: I will get out. Oh, yes. I will.
Pam: So we shouldn't help you no matter how much you might beg and plead?
Michael Scott: No. All right. Just- This is getting hot, so let's just do this, okay? Ready!
All: Three! Two! One!
Michael Scott: Go!

Michael Scott: Pam, would you smell my breath?
Pam: No.
Dwight K. Schrute: No. Let me smell. [Michael breathes on Dwight] Good. Not great.

Michael Scott: Jimbo, last chance, carpool.
Jim: Oh, no thanks. I think Karen and I will take my car.
Michael Scott: You sure? Might be a good idea-
Jim: Yeah.
Michael Scott: if we all went together, we could save some gas, have fun. Long trip.
Jim: Thanks.
Michael Scott: Play some games?
Jim: Not-
Michael Scott: Yeah. I Spy.

Dwight K. Schrute: Thanks for inviting me along.
Michael Scott: Oh, sure. I really didn't give it any thought. Wait, should you be going?