Rosa: I'm sorry. We're screwed. I should just break up with him.
Captain Holt: No, no, no. Santiago is always on time. We only have to make small talk for-
Rosa: Eight minutes and forty-five seconds.
Captain Holt: We better keep it impersonal. Acceptable subjects include what constitutes a grain, the Hubble space telescope, orchid varietals, the birth of the transistor-
Rosa: We only have to fill eight mintues.
Captain Holt: Sure, but think about it as four hundred and eighty seconds, and you'll see why I'm concerned.
Rosa: Oh my God.

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.

Jake: I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the blood's supposed to be.

Jake: I also have a hairline fracture in my thumb. Mankind's least important finger, am I right?

Charles: Do you desire a crispen potato?
Jake: Oh, don't mind if I do-ble. Wait a minute. Crispen potato. Why are you fancy talking.
Charles: How dare you, sir. I speak the common tongue.
Jake: There it is again. You only do that when you're lying or hiding something.
Charles: Hiding? Ha. Pish-posh.