Amy: I can read him. And if anyone can figure out what's bothering him, it's me. He and I are exactly the same. Except that I'm younger, Cuban, female, single, and straight.
Scully: Captain Holt's not gay. *Amy & Terry stare at Scully* Captain Holt's gay?
Amy: Seriously, man. Just retire.

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.

Scully: Well, how do you know he's even in a bad mood? It's impossible to read that guy.
-cut to-
Captain Holt: This is the most incompetent, worthless report I have ever read in my life. Get your act together, or so help me God, you won't live to see retirement.
-cut to-
Scully: It's like, what's the guy thinking? You know?

Rosa: You all right, Captain? Tough weekend?
Captain Holt: I went to Barbados with my husband. We wove hats out of palm fronds and swam with the stingrays. I've never been happier.

Captain Holt: I threw away the photo because I think it's ostentatious to hang pictures of yourself, especially when you haven't earned a place on the wall.
Amy: Oh.
Captain Holt: But you would have me hang a Baroque oil painting of myself like I'm a North Korean dictator. What, no ornate gold frame? Why am I not astride my noble steed, clad in armor?
Amy: We could add a horse.