Samantha: Ladies, let me tell you about his cock.
Charlotte: Would you be quiet. The people at the next table have a child.
Samantha: Well, that's their choice.
Carrie: Little Miss Hangover is right. Can we lighten up on the cock talk until cocktail time?

Carrie: You have the worst taste in men. Ever.
Bill Kelly: No way.
Carrie: You gave that guy from Midtown a seven.
Bill Kelly: Hey, I like a firefighter with love handles. It gives you something to hold on to when you're riding down the side of a burning building.
Carrie: You, got a point there my friend.

Samantha: I would love to show him my lower Manhattan.
Charlotte: Eww!
Samantha: Look at his arms, they're huge.
Miranda: You know what they say, big arms...big arms.
Samantha: Hello, 911, I'm on fire.

Who woulda thought that an island that tiny, would be big enough to hold all our old boyfriends?


Charlotte: This is an awfully long way to go to watch some firemen take their shirts off.
Samantha: Honey, I'm on the fucking ferry, I better see more than just peaks.

I do not have Steve. There is no having of the Steve. We're just friends.


(to Bill Kelly) You're like a Jehovah Witness with a good suit.


(drunk) I'm nice. I'm pretty and smart! I'm a catch!


(to Charlotte) You fantasized a man with a Park Avenue apartment and nice big stock portfolio. For me it's a fireman with a nice big hose.

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