Jake: Because I know these guys. I know everything about them.
Captain Holt: Well, you're a poor police officer if you don't think people can surprise you.
Jake: Not these people. Here, watch this. I know what everyone's gonna do tonight. It's Thursday, so Gina's gonna leave early to rehearse with her new dance group, Dancy Reagan. They're the first ladies of movement. Amy's gonna be going over her weekly budget. And Charles will be attending a "pizza for one" cooking class.
Charles: Tonight's menu: Pepper-alone-I.
Jake: And if I run and leap at Terry, he will most certainly catch me in his arms. Coming in!
Sergeant Jeffords: No! I'm holding coffee!

Rosa: Come on, Peralta! Holt said to use the whole team. We all want this solved.
Jake: I appreciate the offer, but I work best alone. Except when it comes to sex. Actually, sometimes including sex.

Amy: I can't wait to see the inside of Raymond's house. I'm gonna learn everything there is to know about him.
Charles: I bet it's really fancy. Like Beauty and the Beast fancy.
Jake: No, it's probably just an empty, white cube with a USB port in it for him to plug his finger in when he's on sleep mode.

Jake: I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the blood's supposed to be.

Captain Holt: Nothing's okay. Wuntch, circling me like a shark frenzied by chum. The task force turning into a career-threatening quagmire. An Internal Affairs investigation casting doubt upon my integrity. And you ask, is everything okay? I am buffeted by the winds of my foe's enmity and cast about by the towering waves of cruel fate. Yet I, a Captain, am no longer able to command my vessel, my precinct, from my customary helm, my office. And you ask, is everything okay? I've worked the better part of my years on earth overcoming every prejudice and fighting for the position I hold, and now I feel it being ripped from my grasp, and with it the very essence of what defines me as a man. And you ask, is everything okay?

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

Madeline Wuntch: Hello, Raymond.
Captain Holt: Madeline. I wondered why all the birds had suddenly stopped singing. What brings you here?
Madeline Wuntch: I heard you were under investigation by Internal Affairs. Didn't wanna miss that.
Captain Holt: So much time with your ear to the pavement, it's a pity a truck hasn't run over your head.