Erin: [on the phone] 2:00 should probably be okay. I can either take your number or- [Gabe ends the call]
Gabe: I'm sorry. This can't wait.
Erin: He's just gonna call back.
Gabe: Erin, I am in love with you. I don't believe in much, okay? I don't believe in horoscopes. I don't believe in Christmas. Uh, uh, I sure as hell don't believe in God.
Erin: [quietly] What?
Gabe: Or maybe there's a God. I don't know. I mean, it's just not a guy with a long white beard. Or it could be. I mean, it's possible that that is exactly what- what God is. But for all of the disbelief [phone rings] I believe in us. I believe in love. You have made me believe that for all of the hokum [phone still ringing] out there... Uh, do we not have voicemail?
Erin: Dwight doesn't trust robots to give us our messages.
Gabe: Well... it's just... [ringing] It messes up my rhythm.

Dwight K. Schrute: How you doing, Jordan?
Jordan: I'm good.
Dwight K. Schrute: Everyone here thinks that you're a joke. They think that you were hired because of your good looks, which won't last long anyway. As your pale skin and severe bone structure imply, you'll age swiftly and poorly.

Pam: Dwight, are you carrying a gun?
Dwight K. Schrute: The holster was a gift from my great-uncle Honk. Um, I don't know. I guess he's saying that he's proud of me.
Andy: Dwight, guns make me really uncomfortable.
Dwight K. Schrute: The gun is just an accessory to the holster, okay? I can't walk around wearing an empty holster.
Pam: Why do you need to wear the holster at all?
Dwight K. Schrute: Why do you need to keep wearing those booby shirts all the time?
Angela: Thank you.
Phyllis: You could put your cell phone in it instead.
Dwight K. Schrute: Uh... hello! [show his phone clipped onto his belt]
Kevin: You could put a banana in it.
Dwight K. Schrute: Why would I put a banana in my holster?
Kevin: In case you weren't hungry now, but you got hungry later.
Pam: Dwight, no gun, okay? Don't make us call Jo.
Dwight K. Schrute: Okay. All right. Fine. Everyone calm down. Someone get me a banana. Sorry I freaked you guys out - aah! [Dwight goes to flip the gun and it fires near Andy's ear]
Erin: Andy!
Andy: Aah! Aah! It's so loud!

Toby: Hey, what happened?
Kelly: Dwight went on a shooting spree, and then he shot Andy in the head.
Dwight K. Schrute: No, no, no. All we know is that a gun fired. That's all we know! No. That's not true. Actually, we heard a loud noise. Later, a hole was seen. No one saw the bullet leave the gun.

Dwight K. Schrute: [in a Texan accent] Yee-haw! Whoo-hoo! [imitates gunfire] Howdy, partners! It's me, Gun-Safety Dwight! And I'm the rootin'-est-- [removes hat] I can't do this. Um, look. Obviously, a gun went off under my watch, and I'm launching a full investigation.
Stanley: We all saw you do it.
Dwight K. Schrute: Really? You did? What hand was I holding the gun in? What did Andy's tie look like?
Erin: Navy blue. Little red anchors.
Dwight K. Schrute: I have no way of knowing if that's true.

Jo: Jim Halpert, the only man that ever turned me down.
Jim: Well, I don't know about that. Just wasn't for me. But let me assure you, Dwight is firing on all cylinders. Right?
Jo: Well, some pretty big shoes to fill. I was sorry to hear about Deangelo. He was a good man. Tragic. [Jim coughs]
Dwight K. Schrute: [does jazz hands, Jo notices and looks at him oddly] Well, what can you do? Life.

Gabe: Hey, Andy, did you tell Erin about our conversation earlier when you said you would never want to date her again?
Andy: Uh...
Gabe: I just thought that it was so interesting that you promised that.
Andy: Did I say that earlier? Yes, I did. Because you, Gabe, were crying...
Gabe: No, I was not.
Andy: And sobbing uncontrollably. Yes. Uh-huh. You were in hysterics. And my maternal instincts kicked in. Is it actually how I feel? Yes. Or no. That is... between me and my diary.

Dwight K. Schrute: Oscar, can you print out last year's sale statements?
Kevin: Hey, Dwight, gimme a back massage.
Dwight K. Schrute: No, Kevin, come on.
Kevin: My back is sore, Dwight. Massage it.
Dwight K. Schrute: Kevin, not now.
Kevin: Hey, Jo!
Dwight K. Schrute: Okay, okay. Shh! [Dwight begins rubbing his shoulders]
Kevin: No, under the jacket.
Dwight K. Schrute: You're kidding me. [reaches under Kevin's jacket] Oh God, what am I touching? It's moist.
Kevin: I don't feel anything.
Dwight K. Schrute: Oh, it's so wet.
Kevin: Push harder, Dwight.
Dwight K. Schrute: I can't. I can't push harder!
Kevin: Go a little higher. There you go. Nope, higher. Higher.
Dwight K. Schrute: Okay, how's that?
Kevin: Knead it. Knead it like a pizza.
Dwight K. Schrute: I'm kneading it!
Kevin: But don't eat it.

Jo: You three are my search committee. You're in charge of finding me my next manager. All righty?
Gabe: Yep.
Jim: Yep.
Jo: Till then, we need a new acting manager. Now, who's got the most experience in this office?
Toby: Uh, well, we probably don't want to go just on seniority.
Jo: Who is it?

Jim: Hey, Dwight. What's up?
Dwight K. Schrute: Shut up.
Jim: Well, you do know that Jo was right to take the job away from you, right? There's no debating that. But, I will say... in your one week, every single one of the orders went out on time. And I think that is shagadelic, baby.