I guess I don't have what it takes to be a film critic. I could be a food critic. These muffins taste ... bad. Or maybe an art critic. That painting is ... bad.

Andy

Howard Morris: I’m a librarian.
Jonathan: Shut up.
Howard Morris: That’s our slogan.

I know I'm more talented than all of you. Britney Spears taught me that.

Brittany

Sylvie: Why would my feelings be any different now? I wanted to keep things light, leave my options open, do me.
Gabby: I like this new attitude. It's strong, steady.
Sylvie: And... Who knows, if down the line, Antonio and I are meant to be together, then--
Gabby: Veering off course!

Wednesday: That woman thinks Jesus suffered for her sins. They're her sins, why should Jesus do all the suffering?
Shadow: Because his dad sacrificed his ass.
Wednesday: Don't blame the parent. Plenty of suffering and sacrifice to go around.

VICKY: "Damnit, Daniel! Wake up!"
DONNA: "My name is Donna."

Lauren: It’s a love story, set in a glamorous arena very close to home. OK, let me set the stage with the characters. Love isn't just for the young and obviously desirable, right? Even with people ripening in Septembers and early Octobers of their years, love can find a way. Love, say, between a publishing titan with very big hands and shoes and a housewife from New Jersey who moved to New York to impersonate young people and learn about memes and Snapchat lens.
Charles: Lauren, I don’t think…
Liza: Actually…
Lauren: And this loveable kitten-eared imposter soon won the heart of the boss-slash-hero, who incidentally believes of promoting from within, and he summoned up the courage… no, I believe he can say this far better than me…
Video Charles: Will you marry me?
Video Liza: Oh my god.
Lauren: OK, so we didn’t get her answer here on video, but he got it, obvy, and therefore, it brings me great pleasure to present to you the Empirical family of the future, Mr. and Mrs. Charles…
Charles: Lauren, we’re not getting married.
Liza: We’re not engaged. It’s not happening.

Morgan: You know I think I liked you better when you were the press liaison.
JJ: No you didn't.

(to Mahaffey) That's a shame. A medication comes along after your gambling gets your fucking hip busted to shit.

Big Pussy

Barry: I could get Belgian waffles from Brussels.
Caitlin: Yum, that sounds incredible.
Barry: Yeah? Should I do it?
Cisco: No, no, no, no. Don't-don't do that, okay? As much as I hate to say it, waffles can wait.

So long partner. I'm glad you're still here.

Carlos

May: You're not Sarge.
Coulson: No, I'm not.
May: You're not Coulson either.
Coulson: Well, yes and no. Aren't you at all surprised? I mean, I was dead.
May: You still are.