Dr. Elliot Reid

I mean, when my dad's not asking the maid for a neck-rub, he's telling me if I'm going to get emotional, I should do it in a closet because no one likes to see a hysterical woman.

— I'm notifying all my old boyfriends that I am officially off the market.
— I'm sure the pulse setting on your showerhead will be devastated.

— Carla's right, Keith's a mess. He hasn't been able to pull out of it since you ended things. He's sad all the time.
— Yeah, I don't see it.
— Of course you don't. No one ever wants the person who hurt them to ever see how badly they've been hurt.

God, it's so weird how we always regress when we're with people from our past, you know?

— I'm dating an idiot.
— Yeah, but you knew what you were getting into.

If there is one thing I've learned at this hospital, it's that you should never antagonize your boss or the people that make the food, because either way you end up eating poo. Hear it, learn it, live it. Huh?

— You ever get the feeling our patients pretend to be sicker when we're around?
— Oh, yeah. You know Mrs. Wilson back there? She made her spleen pretend to rupture, and then she pretended to die.

— You know you're not exactly my favorite person in this dump. And I say that knowing full well you feel the same way about me.
— I started an "I hate Cox" chat room. Hasn't worked out the way I planned. It's me, two interns and 14,000 lesbians.

— The first part of the plan is not to share it with people who annoy me. Want to hear the second part?
— Sure.
— I can't. My hands are tied by the first part.

— Promise me you'll hold me like this when I push your baby out my bajingo.
— I'm putting on a third condom.

— Janitor? Have you ever looked at yourself and wished that you were different in every single way?
— No... I'm a winner.

— You do those things, and when you're done, I'll think about telling you the sex.
— Seems you went to a swap meet and got yourself a big-boy spine.

I always heard that when they were right, they were easy. That even when things got hard that they were easy.

— She's pregnant! You're supposed to tell her what she wants to hear.
— Yeah, like remember when Carla was preggers and we all told her how beautiful she was, even though she looked like George Lopez?

— I know what you're thinking.
— Your butt looks like two Pringles hugging. No, you don't.

— You actually rank the women of this hospital by their appearance?
— Calm down, Twelve.
— Yes, top twenty!