Amy: Gina, is everything okay? You never text me. Look, the last message I got from you was August 3rd, 2009. You wrote, "Sup, Rosa?" Followed by "Never mind."

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.

Captain Holt: This facility is a violent place filled with hardened criminals We need to send someone who can blend in.
Amy: Sir, I would be honored to take on this challenging assignment. [laughter] Why is everyone laughing? I can be a badass.
Gina: You're raising your hand right now.
Amy: We're in a meeting!

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.

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.