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Evan: My girlfriend?
Anna: The Indian woman who you were with?
Evan: Oh, no. Divya? No. She's, uh...
Anna: You'll make up. You're so cute together.

Evan: You can actually sew up a human being, but you can't wrap something with parallel sides.
Hank: You know, I went to medical school, not the American Academy of Gift-Giving.

Libby: Well, as a cyberchondriac, I'm sort of tapped into the local medical community. And people are talking.
Tucker: Yeah, she's sort of tapped in like the Pope's sort of Catholic.

A lot of people hide their careers from their parents. Like, uh, hitmen do it. Exotic dancers, uh, AIG executives.


Jill: Thanks again for helping out.
Hank: Hey, that's what friends who sleep together and then don't talk about it are for.

Evan: You think when we have kids, we're gonna mess them up? You ever think about that?
Hank: Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about what kids of yours would be like.
Evan: Oh, what? Just smart and intelligent and just overall awesome.
Hank: So they'll take after your wife.

(to Divya) I'm proud of you, and I don't even like you that much.


Anyone else dropping by? Some huddled masses? Fagin's gang of street urchins perhaps?


(about Evan) There's no stopping him when he's like this. The bylaws for our treehouse were 8 pages long...and it was an imaginary treehouse.

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