Jake: No, look, I was the first one in on Wednesday.
Gina: This story is already full of holes.

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: Coat, coat, jacket, coat. Is this a police precinct or a Turkish bazaar?

Gina: Jake, why don't you just do the right thing and jump out a window? Captain Holt will never fire me if he knows I'm mourning the death of a close friend.

Captain Holt: Squad, since Peralta's briefing was cut short, you can all use this time to clean up your desks. Look at this place. Half-eaten food, crumpled tissues, pictures of your families.
Sergeant Jeffords: What's wrong with pictures?
Captain Holt: If you love someone, you'll remember what they look like.