Dr. Christopher Turk

— The girl one just called you Dr Jerk.
— No sweat. You should hear what they call Dr Mickhead.

— Oh my God! Dude! I doubted you for a second, why are you so mad?
— Maybe I needed you to believe in me!
— I believe in you, baby.
— Yeah, but we're married... that doesn't count.

Stay tuned for Gilmore Girls. Mothers and daughters. They speak so fast but they speak so true.

— How often do you make love?
— Twice today.
— Actually, it was three times. You were asleep for the last one.
— Wow. That really happened? It was weird that you were in one of my sex dreams.
— He is not allowed to dream about me. It gets too freaky.
— Cirque du Soleil freaky. One time, she was skinless.

— I have the same nightmare, every time. That I'd die and leave my family and friends behind. I'm diabetic, so... I'm probably gonna go before him.
— Hopefully.
— Dude!
— I'm gonna have you stuffed.
— Carla already said, «No».
— I must stuff her too.
— You promise?
— I'm gonna keep her in the closet, though.
— Alright, but don't tell her.
— She don't need to know nothing.

— I wasn't too excited about taking over this spot after you sat in it for twenty minutes, but I gotta tell ya, it's warm in all the right places.
— Mm-hmm.
— How do you like what I left you over there?
— Oh, man, your ass indentation is so deep, it's like I'm sitting in a giant inner tube.

— Glad we did this?
— I'm going out for Mexican food tonight. I'll see you in bed, my friend.

How am I supposed to believe in someone that's gonna let innocent people suffer?

— Dr Kelso, I have a low anterior resection this afternoon and I'd really like to exercise in order to be at my best.
— Well, I'd really like grandkids someday, but the last five Christmases, my son has brought his roommate Brad home, so you tell me whether life is fair.

— It's true, Mr. Keck, you could probably get by without the surgery. But why would you? I'm the smartest, most skilled surgeon in this place.
— You stuck in that candy machine?
— I paid for my Rolos, I'm getting my Rolos.

— Ok, all we have to do here is kill space goblins.
— And what's my motivation?
— You're motivation is to kill space goblins.
— Yeah, but like killing them because I hate them or because I don't share their space goblin values?
— Whatever you want.

— Why are you doing this to me? All I wanted to do was have sex with a foxy nurse, and now I'm in love?
— Sweetie, that happens.

It's guy love, don't compromise... -
the feeling of some other guy.
Holding up your heart... into the sky.
I'll be there to care through all the lows.
I'll be there to share the highs.
It's guy love between two guys.

I should warn you, I've killed a man. Granted, it was during surgery, but... I don't need anesthesia to knock your ass out.

I'm about to ruin my career by plunging a knife into a conscious person. But you know what, you're absolutely right, let's focus on the lying.

— A few quick things: Don't talk while I'm talking, never utter the phrase «It's Miller time», and I don't like the smell of cologne in my operating room. Now, I'd like to take a minute to listen to any questions or comments that any of you might have, and then after this minute I never want to hear from any of you ever, ever, ever again. Anyone?
— Uh... I'm allergic to shellfish...?