Malory: Especially Sterling. If he found out i might have breast cancer, he'd be devastated. This information cannot leave this... Pam what the hell?
Pam: What? Nothing.
Malory: You're texting about my...
Pam: I'm not I swear, this is about...
Cheryl: Breast caner! Oh, you poor thing.
Malory: What is wrong with you?
Pam: I can't help it. It's like a disease.
Pam: Do you not know what disease means? Oh sorry I forgot you might have...
Cyril: Breast cancer!
Cheryl: Do anything fun this weekend? Because I sure did. Friday night was cornhole league and then on Saturday...
Malory: If I cared what you do on the weekend I'd stick a shotgun in my mouth and pull the trigger with my toes.
Cheryl: Saturday I watched a building burn down.
Cheryl: You're not my supervisor!
Pam: Shut up! We're going to go to prison.
Cheryl: No, we're not. Say the right stuff and they just send you to a mental hospital for ten months.
Gilette: I just this second realize why you do macrame instead of knitting.
Cheryl: Yeah, no sharp weapons on the ward. They were really strict about that.
Cheryl: Deaf people are gross.
Pam: Not as gross as the hook hand ones.
Cheryl: Eh? I dunno.
Rona: Where's my journal?
Pam: I maybe kind of sort of took it?
Gillette: Why would you do that?
Cheryl: Did you think it was meat?
Pam: How's the elevator supposed to work with a gillion pounds of computers on it?!
Cheryl: Who am I, Elisha Otis?
Krieger: Pam, if you're dumping stuff on the street, you can also dump these.
Pam: What is it?
Krieger: Shattered dreams.
Cheryl: Smells like rotten meat.
Krieger: Also, yes.
Krieger: So, uh have you ever thought about having a baby?
Cheryl: Sometimes I think about adopting a little baby so I could abandon it at a mall.
Krieger: That answers my follow up question.
Cheryl: So, Krieger's a doctor.
Cyril: Not the medical kind!
Krieger: Not even the other kind... technically.
Cheryl: You can't control a person's heart.
Krieger: You can with a little something I like to call a deep cycle marine battery... or LSD.
Ouch, my earballs.
Cheryl: Why don't you go back to Jamaica?
Pam: A) Because I got deported.