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: In a head-to-head contest, people prefer Belsnickel over Santa every time. There aren't as many songs about him, but I attribute that more to rhyming difficulties. My brother and I wrote one once. It was about a fickle pickle salesman who would tickle you for a nickel.

Stanley: So do they bring in food, or do you get to go out?
Toby: No, they bring it in.
Stanley: You lucky son of a bitch.
[aside to camera:]
Stanley: I have been trying to get on jury duty every single year since I was 18 years old. To get to go sit in an air-conditioned room downtown, judging people while my lunch is paid for... That is the life.

Holly: Okay, listen, I'm gonna tell him that if he doesn't propose by the end of this year, we're over.
Pam: Wow, an ultimatum.
Holly: Yeah.
Pam: It doesn't really seem like you.
Kelly: That is a great idea. Ultimatums are key. Basically, nobody does anything for me anymore unless I threaten to kill myself.

Holly: [as Clint Eastwood] Well, well, well, if it isn't Michael Scott. You old bastard.
Michael Scott: [imitating her] Well, I never thought I'd see your face around these parts, you old bastard.
Holly: Well I did show my face around these parts, you old bastard.
Michael Scott: [as Curly] Why, you're some sorta wise guy, huh?
Holly: [as Curly] I most certainly am.
Michael Scott: Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk, nyuk!
Holly: Ungh!
Michael Scott: [as Homer] D'oh!
Holly: [as Marge] Oh, Homey.