February 24, 2010 | 0 Comments
Carrie: He’s a photographer. Samantha: And you met him at your shrink’s? Carrie: It wasn’t a setup or anything. Jeez! What if he’s crazy?…
Carrie: He’s a photographer. Samantha: And you met him at your shrink’s? Carrie: It wasn’t a setup or anything. Jeez! What if he’s crazy?…
Samantha: It’s slim pickings out there. You can’t swing a Fendi purse without knocking over five losers.
Carrie: I don’t pick the wrong guys, they pick me. Miranda: So what, your like a fly strip for dysfunctional men? Carrie: Yeah, but one…
Charlotte: I mean even if you’re still in a relationship you still have to play games. Carrie: Big and I played games look where it got…
Samantha: The only place you can control a man is in bed. If we perpetually gave men blow jobs we could run the world. Carrie: At least…
Samantha: Well, of course you pick the wrong guys. Jesus, I coulda told you that. Carrie: Frankly, I thing I picked the wrong therapist….
Dr. G: So, Carrie, tell me why your here? Carrie: Well, my friends can’t handle me anymore. You’re like very expensive foster care.
Stanford: How can you not have a shrink? This is Manhattan. Even the shrinks have shrinks. I have three. Carrie: No, you don’t. Stanford:…
Carrie: Therapy is just so self-indulgent. Ancient man didn’t need shrinks to survive. Miranda: Ancient man only lived till thirty.
Stanford: Excuse me, but when did wild sex come back in style? Carrie: Oh I think that was the weekend you spent at the Barney’s…