Carrie: There are very few things this New Yorker loves as much as Sunday brunch. You can sleep until noon and still get eggs anywhere in the city, alcohol is often included with the meal, and Sunday is the one day a week you get the single woman's sports pages: the New York Times wedding section.

Charlotte: I don't have a goody drawer.
Carrie: Oh, everybody has a goody drawer.
Samantha: I have a goody closet.

Carrie: You know who those women marry? The Roman numeral guys.
Charlotte: (reading from the paper) Charles Duffy Anderson IV.
Carrie: Ding-ding-ding!
Samantha: I find the higher the number the worse the sex. I went out with somebody III who couldn't even get it up.
Miranda: Imagine how bad Henry VIII must have been.
Carrie: Yeah, you give him head, he cuts yours off!

Charlotte: Well at least you have a boyfriend.
Miranda: That doesn't mean I'm getting married, it means I'm getting laid.

I will never be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it, and chair committees, and write thank you notes, and I can't feel bad about that.


Carrie: I just can't believe she opened your goody drawer. I mean, everyone knows the night stand is private.
Charlotte: What do you have in there?
Miranda: You know the usual, condoms, vibrator....
Carrie: Massage oils, cigarettes.

It's like I hired my mother.


Samantha: I can't believe that bitch is a no show.
Carrie: I'm the one whose sick. I charged another outfit I can't afford. I probably bounced a check to a charity just to prove I'm amazing. I never felt so...let's just go.
Samantha: I paid eighty-five dollars. We're having our two drinks. What do you feel like?
Carrie: Um, loser on the rocks.

Miranda: Who is this and what is she doing in my bedroom?
Magda: It is the Virgin Mary.
Miranda: And where's my other thing?
Magda: What thing?
Miranda: You know the thing, the thing, don't make me say it. The thing you moved and replaced with this lady.
Magda: In bathroom, middle drawer next to hair dryer. But no man will marry you if that is by bed. It means you don't need him.
Miranda: Magda, what I don't need is another mother. I have one in Philadelphia and that's close enough. I need a housekeeper who will clean my apartment and stop judging me because I'm a thirty-four year old single woman living in New York. I drink coffee and have sex and buy pies and enjoy battery operated devices. If you can't deal with that, I will find a another housekeeper who can.

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