I believe we were brought together by the most successful capitalist enterprise in the history of the world. Despite the McLean Deluxe and the MickeyMoo.

Jack: Oh, come on Lemon, what is this? A green card thing?
Liz: No.
Jack: Closet case?
Liz: I don't think so.
Jack: Slump buster?
Liz: No, he's not a ballplayer.
Jack: Bundy-esque serial killer?
Liz: That was my first thought, but no. This is actually happening, and I'm blowing it.

[to Liz] I give you a simple management suggestion in a professional context, and I get back the second half of a Judy Blume novel.

[to himself] It's winning time, you magnificent son of a bitch!

Way to tell me something I already knew. What are you, The Huffington Post?

Liz: We need to get these guys! Don't you know the Postmaster General?
Jack: I do, but we had a falling out over the Jerry Garcia stamp. If I wanted to lick a hippie, I'd return Joan Baez's phone calls.

Rich fifty is middle class thirty-eight.

Jack: Hey Lemon, check this out, I just made it up: the three B's: beers, boats, and buds. Doesn't that sound great?
Liz: Are you having a stroke?

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

Jack: Kenneth, how much money do you have in your savings?
Kenneth: Well, let's see. [looks in coffee can] Eighty thousand dollars!
Jack: If you don't include Confederate money?
Kenneth: Four thousand dollars!

Liz: No, listen to me. She's not fun, she's just crazy. Like, grab a cop's gun crazy.
Jack: Lemon, having known Claire for a very enjoyable 20 minutes and you for what feels like infinity. I'm going to go with Claire on this one.

Jack: What do you take to fly?
Liz: Candy and magazines.
Jack: No no. Pills. Nobody flies without medication anymore. Why shouldn't you enjoy the same luxuries as a dog?
Liz: Comanaprosil? May cause dizziness, sexual nightmares, and sleep crime.
Jack: It's very good.