Captain Holt: Yes, I received your "Save the Date" decorative gourd. Your ornamental cornucopia. And this beautiful hand-crafted card of a turkey wearing a tophat.
Amy: It's a pilgrim's hat.
Captain Holt: Where's the buckle, Santiago?

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?

Jake: We have a few more questions for you, doctor.
Captain Holt: Doctor. Huh. It's funny when people call dentists "doctor".
Philip Davidson: We are doctors. We do four years of medical school.
Captain Holt: Yeah, but it's called "dental school".
Philip Davidson: But we learn about the entire body.
Captain Holt: But if you had cancer, you wouldn't call a dentist.
Philip Davidson: You know it's actually harder to get into dental school than medical school.
Captain Holt: Well, because there are fewer dental schools. Because most people want to become actual doctors.
Philip Davidson: That's ridiculous. It's not like we're college professors calling ourselves "doctors".
Captain Holt: Not the same thing, my friend.
Philip Davidson: Well, sure it is. When someone has a heart attack on a plane, do they yell out, "Yo, does anybody here have an Art History PhD?"
Captain Holt: A PhD is a doctorate. It's literally describing a doctor.
Jake: Maybe let's refocus.
Captain Holt: No! The problem here is that medical practitioners have co-opted the word "doctor".
Jake: Okay, Captain-
Captain Holt: I know we live in a world where anything can mean anything, and nobody even cares about etymolo-
[cut to outside, Holt downing a glass of water]
Captain Holt: Apparently that's a trigger for me.
Jake: Yeah, apparently.

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.

Amy: Hitchcock, why do you have your shirt off?
Hitchcock: Can't spill food on your shirt if you're not wearing one.

Jake: Excuse me. Uh, so earlier at Amy's, I didn't give a real toast because I didn't know what to say. But since that time, a wise unsmiling man named Jerald Jimes made me realize what I am thankful for. So, I'd just like to say I am happy to be here with my family. My super weird family with two black dads, and two Latina daughters, and two white sons, and ... Gina. And I don't know what you (Scully) are. Some strange giant baby? To the Nine-Nine!

Amy: Rosa is even wearing her formal leather jacket.
Rosa: It's the one without any blood on it.