Charles: You take care of Amy.
Gina: But how to make it look like an accident?
Charles: I'm not saying murder. Just talk to her like a normal person.
Gina: Right, even better. Get her to tell me all her little secrets, then if she tries anything we can destroy her.

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.

Gina: Have you seen Captain Holt? Tall, handsome gentleman dressed like an airline pilot.

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.

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.