Greg: You wanna have children?
Dharma: Yeah, unless you wanna have 'em.
Kitty: Oh, Gregory, darling, every bride thinks she wants to cook a Thanksgiving dinner and it always ends up the same. Someone cries, someone is rushed to the emergency room and a perfectly lovely bird gets wasted. Which, if I don't eat soon, will be me.
Dharma: George! I'm so glad to see you! How are you?
George: Still dead, otherwise good.
Dharma: Welcome to the Pompous Room. May I check Madame's pole, or will she be keeping it up her butt?
Greg: What do you think?
Dharma: Well, I think that one of us should go talk to your Dad, and I think you should go talk to your Mom.
Greg: I know what you just did.
Dharma: Me too! Go with God.
Greg: What are you doing?
Dharma: Wait a second, can you see me?
Greg: Yes.
Dharma: Oh, I totally misunderstood that groom-can't-see-the-bride-in-her-wedding-dress-thing.
Greg: Justice Department.
Treasury Officer: Treasury Department.
Dharma: San Francisco Library.
Dharma: ...but that doesn't change the fact that we have no money.
Marci: Maybe not, but we've got love.
Dharma: Well, I could try to pay the phone bill with love, but I think it's a felony.
Marci: Actually, prostitution is only a misdemeanor.
Dharma: Great, that takes care of the phone bill.
Dharma: One time when I was babysitting your monkey, I took him to a fancy party without telling you.
Jane Deaux: Is that where he started smoking again?
Dharma: MmmHmm.
Jane Deaux: Do you know how hard it is to get a nicotine patch to stick to a monkey?
Greg: Justice Department.
Treasury Officer: Treasury Department.
Dharma: San Francisco Library.
Jane Deaux: Organ Donor.
Dharma: Honey, are you OK?
Greg: I'm fine. I'm just lying here trying to decide whether your father is a hole surrounded by ass.
Kitty: Come Edward, there's someone I'd like you to meet.
Edward Montgomery: I hope his name is Johnny Walker.
Kitty: It's the archbishop.
Edward Montgomery: I hope it's Archbishop Johnny Walker.
