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Dr. Cox: ...And bam! The shine's off the apple. And that's when you find out that that pretty little girl you married isn't a pretty little girl at all. No, she's a man-eater. And I'm not talking about the "whoa-whoa, here she comes" kind of man-eater. I'm talking about the kind that uses your dignity as a dishtowel to wipe up any shreds of manhood that might be stuck inside the sink. Of course, I may have tormented her from time to time; but, honest to God, that's what I thought marriage was all about. So much so that, by the end of that relationship, I honestly don't know who I hated more - her or me? I used to sit around and wonder... why our friends weren't trying to destroy each other, like we were. And here, it turns out, the answer's pretty simple: They weren't unhappy. We were.
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Dr. Cox: [in response to something J.D. just said] Oh, my God; I care so little, I almost passed out.
Janitor: Some hooligan keeps disconnecting the alarm. I told Security to look into it. But no, no, they'd rather catch the guy who's stealing organs from the transplant ward.
Carla: [about a male intern] You're right; he definitely has a cute little butt.
Elliot: It's almost like it's been sculpted.
J.D.: Who cares? Everyone has a cute butt; I have a cute butt.
Carla: You should bring it in someday.
[Dr. Cox and the pregnant Jordan are walking through towards a Nurses' Station]
Dr. Cox: Yes, hello? Could we please get my hormonal, extremely annoying ex-wife's amnio underway?
Jordan: Wow, I can't wait to write that down in the baby journal.
[Dr. Cox grunts]
Jordan: Could you be a bigger ass right now?
Dr. Cox: Could you *have* a bigger ass right now?
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Elliot: My life is a mess!
J.D.: At least you're pretty.
Elliot: Yeah, well, pretty don't pay the rent!
Carla: It does for my sister.
Elliot: Oh, my God, your sister's a prostitute?
Carla: She's a model. Come on, Elliot, we talked about thinking before we speak.