Archer: What is that smell?
Malory: Gravlax and failure. I think Lana just Broke Torvald's Hand.
Archer: Truckasaurus.

Archer: You said no dates!
Malory: I said no such thing.
Archer: Well, your mouth did.
Malory: Well, your mouth better get over there and make Torvald happy.
Archer: Um, phrasing.

Caterer: Gravlax?
Lana: Thanks, no. I'm allergic to cat piss.

Malory: Well, what about the ground breaking work that Dr. Krieger is doing for ISIS in our Applied Research Division?
Pam: Yeah, tell him about the sex robot.
Malory: Yes, the.. what?
Krieger: I call him Fister Roboto.

Lana: I find your lack of faith disturbing.
Cyril: I find your mannish hands disturbing.
Pam: I find them kind of sexy.

Archer: Woodhouse! What are you doing?
Woodhouse: Uh, sitting down sir.
Archer: What, at the table? Like people?

Hey com 'on, you know I'd never let anything happen to your bacon. I love you Santa Clause. [sniff] I do.

Com 'on twenty two black. Twenty two black. Twenty two... BLACK, ASS SON OF A BITCH! Uh..heh.. not you giant African man. I'm sorry, can I offer you a drink? How about this expensive prostitute?

Malory: Agent Performance: unsatisfactory.
Archer: Aw, com 'on. At worst that was "needs improvement."

Lana: I think Conway is totally up to something.
Archer: Duh! You think I'm an idiot? I know he wants to marry mother and have her cut me out of the will. Which is why I'm going to kill him.

Conway: I've tracked him to South Beach where he's arranged to sell the plans to Cuban Naval Intelligence. If that happens, undetectable Cuban missile subs can be parked right off Miami beach.
Malory: Ugh. Just what Miami needs, more Cubans.

I am drunk, or I wouldn't be talking to you.

Archer Quotes

Cheryl: What the stupid shit are you doing??
Cyril: You said you wanted watermelon.
Cheryl: Watermelon's red?
Cyril: Yes. How do you not know that?
Cheryl: Who am I? Charles Frederick Andress?

Hawley: Awww screw me!
Archer: ...said Ripley to the android Bishop.