Gina: And, Amy, you don't know this 'cause I don't necessarily enjoy talking to you, but in my early 20s, I too battled an addiction.

Gina: It's Gina's phone. Leave me a voice-mail. I won't check it 'cause it's not 1993.

Gina: Is she crying?
Jake: A little.
Gina: You should be wailing you stone-cold bitch. Now call my other grandma.

Gina: All men are at least 30% attracted to me. My mother cried the day I was born, because she knew she would never be better than me. At any given moment, I'm thinking about one thing: Richard Dreyfuss hunkered over eating dog food. I feel like I'm the Paris of people.

Jake: Boyle, why don't you show Danger what a fax machine is.
Charles: Okay. Imagine a letter had unprotected sex with a phone.

Jake: Here, my email is-
Jack Danger: Uh, no email. I'll send it to you with r-mail, which is to say, real mail. Because email has put hundreds of my co-workers out of work.
How would you like it if they laid off all of your fellow detectives and partnered you with a robocop?
Jake: I've literally drawn sketches of that.
Charles: The robot has a backpack that can carry me.

Captain Holt: Santiago, I may need you to come in for a bit on saturday.
Amy: Again? Are you kidding me, man? (Gasps) I'm sorry. Let's start fresh. Hi!
Sergeant Jeffords: Oh, my God.
Captain Holt: What just happened?
Gina: Her mind finally snapped, like a stale breadstick.