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.

Rosa: All you have to do is say a few nice comments during the memorial.
Captain Holt: As God said when Wuntch tried to sneak past the gates into heaven, "It ain't happening, honey."
Rosa: [cackles]

Amy: Captain, how are you feeling?
Captain Holt: Better today. I even managed to eat some plain toast this morning.
Amy: Smart. Something bland.
Captain Holt: That's my favorite breakfast.

Amy: Maybe we should talk about deets for the case. Plan our next move. Grab some chow.
Captain Holt: No need. I brought these. Nutrition bricks. I have original no flavor, and whole wheat no flavor.

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.

Jake: I promise I will be stone-cold serious in my interview. I'll even use my serious face. If you're wondering how I'm pulling this off, I'm thinking about the time when I was eight and Don Mattingly called me a little turd.
Captain Holt: Was he right?
Jake: Yes.