Jake: Meanwhile, Holt won't even talk to me.
How is he, by the way?
Gina: Honestly, terrible. I've only heard from him once this week, and that was to tell me he'd finally come up with a new, non-threatening term for task forces.
Ya'll ready for this? "Do groups".
Jake: Wow, that sucks tremendously.

Rosa: Come on, Peralta! Holt said to use the whole team. We all want this solved.
Jake: I appreciate the offer, but I work best alone. Except when it comes to sex. Actually, sometimes including sex.

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 guess that's your new best friend now, Santiago. Emphasis on "Iago," backstabber.
Amy: I'm surprised you've read Othello.
Jake: What the hell's Othello? I'm calling you the parrot from Aladdin.

Jake: Wait a minute, I think I just figured something out. I got to go.
Gina: Aren't you forgetting something?
*Jake gives Gina a kiss on the forehead*
Gina: Uh no, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

Captain Holt: Let's not overlook the fact that he turned his crime scenes into tea parties for dollies.
Gina: Which suggests pre-adolescent trauma leading to a pattern of criminality that probably began as a juvenile. I'm taking an abnormal psych class, and everyone in it is obsessed with me.

Madeline Wuntch: Oh, there it is. The shriveled husk of Raymond Holt.
Captain Holt: Look, Gina, is that a talking raisin?
Madeline Wuntch: Enough foreplay.