Captain Holt: I still have reservations about this plan. Perhaps you could say your dealer ran out or he's summering in Nantucket.

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: Well, listen, we need your help.
Adrian Pimento: Great, who are we killing? I won't do kids. That's a rule. But that rule is negotiable if the kid's a dick.
Rosa: No, babe, we don't want you to kill anyone.
Adrian Pimento:What? Really?
Rosa: No.

Charles: Sarge, you think Gina will be okay?
Sergeant Jeffords: She says the doctor's can't be sure, but they're optimistic. Apparently, she has something called Ansel-Elgort Syndrome.
Charles: Oh, poor Gina.
Amy: Oh, my God.
Hitchcock: Oh, you fools. That's not a disease. Ansel Elgort's an actor. Did none of you see "The Fault in Our Stars"?
Sergeant Jeffords: No. Why did you?
Hitchcock: Teenage romance, dying chick, oxygen mask. Checks all my boxes.

Adrian Pimento: Okay, here are the ground rules: You can punch me, kick me, pull my hair, I am a-ok being stabbed, biting and scratching are on the table, you can use fire.
Jake: These are the ground rules? Is there anything off limits?
Adrian Pimento: Damn, man. You got something really sick you wanna do, huh? Oh, you little pervert. All right, I like it. Don't tell me. Surprise me. Ooh, this is gonna be fun.