Amy: Jake, stop. Why is it so easy for everyone else to get pregnant? I mean, look at these stupid guinea pigs. They made 600 babies, and we can't make one? Why can't we make 600 babies?
Jake: You can't compare yourself to guinea pigs, babe. You taught me that.

Amy: Sir, I'm sure you had your reasons for going to Peralta, but this is exactly the type of job I would love to have.
Captain Holt: Okay, the next time someone threatens to kill me, I'll come straight to you.
Amy: Thank you, sir. I can't wait. I didn't mean- Let's catch this bastard.

Jake: You might wanna stand back for this, sir. It can get pretty intense.
Amy: [YELLING] All right, you mooks, our union health plan has 100% reimbursement for out-of-state ambulance rides. Scully will fake a medical emergency.
Scully: Don't need to fake it. Always having at least one.
Amy: Great. You call an ambulance and have it take us here to Monroe, Louisiana. The ambulance can drive 25 miles over the posted speed limit, so we'll get there by 9:00 p.m. There's a small airport there, mostly servicing crop dusters. Of course, they can't take passengers, but thanks to a loophole in H.R. 377551, police officers are allowed to commandeer any plane in the interest of national security. The crop duster will land at an airstrip outside of Finksburg, Maryland. We'll take a cab to Baltimore, jump on the 6:48 a.m. train to New York, arriving at 9:26. Kevin will meet us at Penn Station with a fresh Captain's uniform. From there, it's a 29-minute cab ride to One Police Plaza. You change on the way, and we should get to your meeting with five minutes to spare. Stop clapping, you idiots! We gotta move, move, move!
Jake: I love her.

Jake: And our second option is surveillance footage of Detective Amy Santiago soliciting drugs using perfect grammar.
Amy: It's not that weird to say, "may I have some cocaine?"
Jake: It is.

Captain Holt: [sighs] I'm off to walk my beat again, much like Sisyphus, condemned to push the same boulder up the same hill day in and day out.
Sergeant Jeffords: You know, according to French Philosopher Albert Camus, Sisyphus achieved happiness in that absurd repetition.
Captain Holt: Any French philosophy post-Rousseau is essentially a magazine. You rube.

Sergeant Jeffords: Well, think of it this way: It's like doing reps at a gym. Doing something over and over again is how you make your pecs pop.
Captain Holt: The only muscle I care to work out is my brain.
Sergeant Jeffords: Then get those reps in and make that brain pop. Pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop.
Captain Holt: What you're describing is an aneurism.
Sergeant Jeffords: Pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop.

Captain Holt: Thank you for seeing me. I just wanted to let you know I was wrong. Until last night, I didn't realize how much Russian I'd learned.
Sergeant Jeffords: Yeah, it was impressive. And your accent was great, too.
Captain Holt: Thank you, but I actually speak with the accent of a peasant.