Dwight: Michael! Michael! There's an emergency in the warehouse.
Michael: There an accident? Somebody hurt?
Dwight: No, it's... involves the photograph.
Michael: Oh. God. No, no, no, no, no.

Dwight: Pam and Karen! I am ordering you to cease and desist all party planning immediately.
Pam: You can't do that.
Dwight: As ranking number 3 in this office, I am ordering you to-
Andy: Ummm, I'm number 3.
Dwight: You're number 4.
Andy: Yeah, but I'm number 3.
Dwight: Uh, no.

Dwight: He was already dead, and we Schrutes use every part of the goose. The meat has a delicious smoky rich flavor. Plus, you can use the molten goose grease and save it in the refrigerator, thus saving you a trip to the store for a can of expensive goose grease.
Jim: Wow. Win-win.

I am greatly concerned about having a convict in the office. And I do not care if that convict is white, black, Asian, German, or some kind of halfsy. I do not like criminals.


Last weekend, I outran a black pepper snake.


Dwight: Hello. I don't believe we've been introduced. Dwight Schrute, Assistant Regional Manager.
Andy: Andy Bernard, Regional Director in charge of Sales.
Dwight: So you'll be reporting to me then.
Andy: On the contrary.
Dwight: My title has "manager" in it.
Andy: And I'm a director. Which on a film set is the highest title there is. Do you know anything about film?
Dwight: I know everything about film. I've seen over 240 of them.
Andy: Congratulations.

The Japanese camp guards of World War II always chose one man to kill whenever a batch of new prisoners arrived. I always wondered how they chose the man who was to die. I think I would have been good at choosing the person.

Dwight: What was your mile time?
Toby: About seven.
Dwight: I could beat that on a skateboard.
Toby: Well, that has wheels.
Dwight: Yeah, well, my feet don't. And I could still crush that time.

Michael: [waiting outside CFO's house] What are we still doing here? It's over. Let's go home, get the car. Ohhh, this was such a stupid idea. This was so stupid. [cries] I'm such a stupid idiot. I let everybody down. Everybody hates me. I lost everybody's jobs. Nobody likes me anymore!
Dwight: [checks his phone] OH MY GOD!
Michael: What?
Dwight: Stamford is closed! Michael, we're not closed! Stamford is closed!
Michael: Stamford is closed?! WE DID IT! WE DID IT! How did we do it?
Dwight: I don't... have no idea.
Michael: I don't understand.

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