Veronica: Children, they have so many uses. They're like adorable Swiss Army knives.
Ted: Although they can't open wine worth a damn.

Boy, bringing things back from the dead never goes smoothly.


That isn't harassment. Harassment is supposed to be sexy. You're not even doing it right.


Ted: You're one of the best executives ever. You're better than Steve Jobs, Lee Iacocca, or...
Veronica: Field Marshal Rommel?
Ted: Okay.
Veronica: He was a brilliant tactician who looked magnificent in jodhpurs.
Ted: Now I'm picturing you in jodhpurs.
Veronica: So am I, and I'll bet Rommel didn't wear a thong underneath his.

Phil: This must be how Dr. Frankenstein felt. And that creepy scientist on the fourth floor who tried to build a wife out of mannequin parts and chicken skin.
Lem: Yeah. It was awkward at the Christmas party when we had to pretend she didn't smell like chicken.

Veronica: Chu, chu, chu, chu.
Ted: What are you doing?
Veronica: That's the sound of me deflecting the whiny bitching with my happiness shield.

We can put him back together. I fixed my marriage with mechanical attachments, I can fix this.


I don't want to lose this job. What am I supposed to do, go back to Wisconsin and work in the cheese mine? After I made that big speech, threw down my cheese shovel, and stormed out?


I don't like other ladies' breasts. Some days I don't even like my own breasts. Although mostly they're awesome.

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