I'm tired of talking this much to a woman I'm not having sex with.

Jack: Never go with a hippie to a second location.
Liz: I need to do that thing that rich people do where they turn money into more money. Can you teach me how to do that?
Jack: With my eyes closed.

Liz: I don't know if he's mentioned this to you a hundred times, but he went to Harvard.
Jack: So we know he's smart and superb at masturbation.

I didn't get a bathroom door that looks like a wall by being bad at business.

I know it's gay, but it's my gay problem and I'm handling it!

He's a white male with hair, Lemon. The sky's the limit.

We brought good things to life. And bad things to Chinese rivers.

I believe that when you have a problem, you talk it over with your priest, or your tailor, or the mute elevator porter at your men's club. Then you take that problem and you crush it with your mind vice. But for lesser beings, like curly haired men and people who need glasses, therapy can help.

Jack: We are lovers.
Liz: Uhh that word bums me out unless it's between the words meat and pizza.

Jack: Devon, I'm straighter than you are gay, and I leave particles of guys like you in my wind. I'm not afraid of you.
Devon: Yeah? Well you should be.
Jack: Let's just see how it all shakes out in the meeting.
Devon: Yeah, let's... Oh, by the way, little slim-waisted birdie in a page jacket told me you got nothing! You're going down.
Jack: No, Devon. I don't do that.

Show her the ugly duckling has turned into a vaguely ethnic swan.

Very different indeed. Like a cantaloupe and a Ziploc bag of mushroom soup.