Gina: Can I have everyone's attention, please. Charles Boyle and I had sex.
Sergeant Jeffords: What the hell?
Charles: Gina, what are you doing?
Gina: Amy was right. People will be shocked, and then they'll get over it and we can move on. At least this way, I get to control how it gets out. I'm about to Olivia pope this sitch.

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.

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.