Dwight K. Schrute: I'm going to live for a very long time. My grandma Schrute lived to be 101. My grandpa Mannheim is 103, and still puttering around down in Argentina. I tried to go visit him once but my travel visa was protested by the Shoah Foundation.

Erin: Dwight, what a ridiculous, fancy clown you are.
Dwight K. Schrute: I am dressed according to the Schrute codes of mourning. My aunt Shirley has died.
Pam: Oh, Dwight. I'm so sorry. Were you guys close?
Dwight K. Schrute: I would say that she raised me, but let's not kid each other. I raised myself. She was, however, the closest thing I had to a mother.
[aside to camera:]
Dwight K. Schrute: My actual mother was very cold and distant. I'd say she was the closest thing I had to an aunt.

Dwight K. Schrute: What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No. I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning, the cops come, and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later I get a postcard. I have a son, he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier.

Dwight K. Schrute: I saw Wedding Crashers accidentally. I bought a ticket for Grizzly Man and went into the wrong theater. After an hour, I figured I was in the wrong theater, but I kept waiting. Because that's the thing about bear attacks, they come when you least expect it.

Dwight K. Schrute: For several weeks, my Secret Santa has been giving me pieces of a machine that I've been attempting to assemble. I'm suspicious of this because I had the exact same idea for catching Osama bin Laden. I would simply send him a different piece each day. He would assemble it to find himself... in jail!

Dwight K. Schrute: I wonder if king-sized sheets are called presidential-sized in England. I really should have a Tweeter account.

Dwight K. Schrute: Actually, I do own property. My grandfather left me a 60 acre working beet farm. I run it with my cousin Mose. We sell beets to local stores and restaurants. It's a nice little farm. Sometimes teenagers use it for sex.

Dwight K. Schrute: Yes. I have decided to shun Andy Bernard for the next three years. Which I'm looking forward to. It's an Amish technique. It's like slapping someone with silence. I was shunned from the age of four until my sixth birthday for not saving the excess oil from a can of tuna.

Dwight K. Schrute: Do I get along with my co-workers? Well, first of all, I don't have co-workers anymore, I have subordinates. So, have I gotten along with my subordinates? Let's see. My supplier relations rep, Meredith Palmer, is the only person I know who knows how to properly head bang to Motorhead. Oscar Martinez, my accountant, is now godfather to my son. Angela Schrute, my former accountant is now my wife. My top salesman, Jim Halpert was best man at my wedding and office administrator Pamela Beesley Halpert is my best friend. So, yes. I'd say I have gotten along with my subordinates.

Dwight K. Schrute: I grew up on a farm. I have seen animals having sex in every position imaginable. Goat on chicken. Chicken on goat. Couple of chickens doing a goat. Couple of pigs watching. Whoever drew this got it exactly right.