Cheryl: Oh my God, you have a crush on her!
Archer: What?! No I don't, I...
Cheryl: Yes you do! That was the cutest thing! And I think SHE has a crush on YOU.
Archer: No, she...wait, really?
Cheryl: Absolutely!
Archer: Why - why - why do you think that? Did she --
Cheryl: Just admit that you like her!
Archer: Well, yeah, of course I --
Cheryl: (yells to room) Hey! Yeah! Me and him, we just f*****d!!

Archer: (grunts in pain)
Cheryl: (flashback as a nun) Shhhh-shhhh. Calmez vous. Vous mettez plus en danger.

Cheryl: I want a drink!
Archer: Join this great new club!

Archer: Heiresses to fortunes like your family's don't fake their own deaths. They murder their parents and blame it on some poor Hispanic or Negro.
Cheryl: Yes, I thought about that, but I don't know any Hispanics or Negroes.
Archer: No, they make up the Hispanic or Negro.
Cheryl: I honestly wouldn't know where to begin.

I'm not paying 26 bucks for a bottle of frustration!

Krieger: Plus tip.
Archer: How about the tip of my cock.
Kriger: In that scenario, would I take your penis in my hand, in my mouth...
Archer: Asshole. Wait - no, I mean, not - Goddammit!!

Cyril: Come to think of it, Archer, where were YOU last night?
Archer: Ask your wife!
Pam: Awwww, you know his wife left him! For you, Archer, because you screwed her tits off at the precinct cookout! So then she thought the two of you would get married and live happily ever after, but you were like, "Whaaaaaaaat.."
Archer: (stares at Pam)
Pam: Exactly. That face right there.

Lana: What sort of daily expenses does a semi-private investigator incur?
Archer: Bullets?
Lana: Daily.
Archer: Or, I don't know, maybe a surf and turf dinner at the Polo Lounge?
Lana: Uh-huh?
Archer: And then maybe a room upstairs at the Beverly Hills hotel?
Lana: Uh-huh.
Archer: And then, maybe...
Lana: I'm gonna leave you here. Between hope and despair.

Archer: Well, so, um, well, you're the, um singer here.
Lana: Wow, and you must be an old gypsy woman.
Archer: Close, I'm a private investigator. I'm doing some work for your boss.
Lana: And apparently doing it with a fresh new take on the word, "private."

Malory: Hmmm. Bronze Star with two Oak Leaves and V Device, Legion of Merit, Croix de Guerre with Palm, Silver Star with two Oak Leaves, Distinguished Service Cross with one Oak Leaf and V Device, three Purple Hearts. It goes on, Mr. Archer.
Archer: Yeah, senior year I was voted "Class Flirt."
Malory: And yet you turned down a battlefield commission to 2nd Lieutenant.
Archer: Well, after "Class Flirt," I mean...

Archer: Whaaaaaat...
Pam: What?!
Archer:....the shiiiit?!?!
Pam: They knew me from work!

Pam: Everything is my business.
Archer: Oh, including white slavery?
Pam: What?
Archer: Those girls are tied up, asshole.
Pam: No they're not, they're just...aww dog dicks.
Archer: Yeah, so...
Pam: Uhhh, wouldn't it be "yellow slavery?"
Archer: (gasps in disbelief) Uh, I don't know, racist!
Pam: White slavery is just as racist!
Archer: WHAT??
Pam: Nooo, you know, if you differentiate between cotton-picking slavery-
Archer: Jesus Christ!
Pam: -and then white slavery then that's-
Archer: SEXUAL slavery, then.
Pam: Okayyyy!
Archer: Goddammit.
Pam: My point is I think we're both anti-slavery.

Archer Quotes

KGB (Crenshaw): This may be old cliche, but... we have ways of making you talk.
Archer: What, your little go-kart battery?
KGB (Crenshaw): Golf cart.
Archer: Whatever. Would you pick an accent and stick with it?

It's like my brain's a tree and you're those little cookie elves.

Archer