Dr. Elliot Reid

— I sort of had a sex dream about you.
— Really?
— Yeah.
— Was I the girl?
— Yeah, you were the girl. Can you just do me a favour? Don't tell Carla about this. She'll just get all jealous and disgusted.
— But we haven't done anything for her to be disgusted by.
— Oh, yeah, we did.

— You're too hard on yourself.
— No, I'm not. I'm just stupid and ugly and I have a pig face.

I don't care what you think. I'm always gonna believe in people.

— Hey Keith.
— You came to your house while I'm packing all my stuff, even though you promised not to be here.
— Awesome. Well, you know you can't take my word. I mean, I also promised to marry you last Saturday, right? Right?

— Well well... Look who has come crawling back, through the desert of shame, to the oasis of hope. Begging for just one sip, of cool Janitor forgiveness. Well... the answer's no.
— Please, Janitor!
— All right, I'm in. Dog gone it, I cannot resist that adorable mug of yours. I'd have to throw a cup of acid on it, to keep it from having power over me.

— J. D., just tell him the truth.
— Last time I was honest with Dan about his life, it made him feel like crap. We didn't talk until our dad died. Do you really want me to do that?

— Who's a whore?
— That'd be me, sir.

— Is this a good time? I have a teeny-weeny question about Mrs Kahn's necrotizing fasciitis.
— For you, Barbie, anything.
— Super.
— First, an interesting side note. I had my physical last week, and while my cholesterol was low, my blood pressure was through the roof. Needless to say, my physician was stumped. But now, thank God, you've helped to solve that riddle, because the instant I heard your shrill voice whining about a "teeny-weeny problem," it took every ounce of self-restraint I had to keep blood from shooting out my ears.
— In the time it took you to say that, you could have just helped me.
— Well, yes, it does, but here, that's what makes it delicious.

— Wow. You look amazing.
— Even in cookie pants?
— Especially in cookie pants.

Anyway, eventually I realised that your troubles don't seem so bad if you just stop talking about them all the time.

— You are a doctor and you need to be able to say simple clinical words like «penis» or «vagina» or «anal».
— «Anal» is not a dirty word, sir.
— Tell that to my wife.

— So, how's Keith?
— Carla. Pig whore.
— Better actually. Used to be "Stupid Pig Whore". It's only been a few days and he's already dropped an adjective.
— Wow! Maybe by the weekend you'll just be "whore".

— Have you slept with Turk yet?
— What?!
— I'm sorry. Too personal.
— I like to wait. I like a guy to want it so bad he thinks he isn't gonna get it ever. When he's lost the will to live, I jump him.
— So how long does that take?
— A month, maybe two. What about you?
— I like to use sex as an ice-breaker.
— And how's that working out for you?
— I guess l don't have what you would call high self-esteem.

So you're just gonna roll over and give up like you always do? Or are you finally gonna get mad and do something about it?

— Hey, Elliot.
— I'm not hiding, I was just looking for my... You, know, the... I was... looking for my dignity.
— Did you find it?
— No. I must've left it at college.

Elliot Reid: — Anyway, I know it's hard to believe, but when I first got to college, I was a little bit of a...
J. D.: — Dork?
Carla Espinosa: — Geek?
Bob Kelso: — Good-time Sally who gave it away for free?