Jake: Sir, take a look at these photos. None of the victims had any alcohol in their apartments. Not even a dusty bottle. You want to know why? Because they were all sober. They all attended 12-step programs. None of them the same one, but they all have the same leader, a creep with a record of torturing animals. I'm talking dogs.
I found the Oolong Slayer, and his name is-
Customer: I never do this, but I kind of ordered rye.
Jake: Ma'am, I'm not a waiter, okay? I'm trying to blow my friend's mind over here.
Gina: Could someone get this lunatic some rye?

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.