500 Best Dwight Schrute Quotes

Dwight: Yankee Swap is like Machiavelli meets... Christmas.

Jim: Dwight, how's the hotel business?
Dwight: Stupid.
Jim: Have you checked Trip Advisor recently?
Dwight: No.
Jim: Maybe you should.
Dwight: Maybe you should... Whatever.
[talking head]
Pam: We wrote a good review. Under "Comments," we wrote, "The natural aroma of the beets drifts into the bedrooms and makes you dream of simpler times."
Jim: "The dawn goose walk will tug at your heartstrings."
Pam: "Table-making never seemed so possible."
Jim: "You will never want to leave your room."
Pam: "The architecture reminds one of a quaint Tuscan beet farm."

Jim: I am on the two-kid sleep schedule so I'm up and at 'em at four fifteen, but no kids, so I honestly didn't know what to do with myself, and then I thought of something. Uh-
[hears door, hides]
Dwight: Heeeere's Dwi- what the-?
[sees trashed room]
Dwight: Oh man.
Erin: What do you think happened?
Dwight: Looks like Jim got mixed up with some bad apples.
[sees "IT WAS DWIGHT" written in lipstick on the door]
Dwight: Oh no, no, no, no. It wasn't me.
[sees "Luwanda at The Alcohol Club" written in lipstick on a door]
Dwight: I gotta find Luwanda at The Alcohol Club. Oh.
[Jim falls out of the closet. Erin and Dwight scream]

Dwight: [playing Agent Michael Scarn in a screenplay written by Michael] "Sam, get my luggage."
Ryan: [playing Agent Michael Scarn's assistant, Samuel L. Chang, with Asian accent] "I forget it, brother."
Dwight: "Samuel, you are such an idiot. You are the worst assistant ever and you're disgusting. Dwigt." Wait, who's Dwigt?
Pam: [in confessional] Here's what we think happened: Michael's sidekick, who all through the movie is this complete idiot who's causing the downfall of the United States, was originally named Dwight, but then Michael changed it to Samuel L. Chang using a search and replace. But that doesn't work on misspelled words, leaving behind one "Dwigt." And Dwight figured it out. Oops!

Dwight: A real man swallows his vomit when a lady is present.

Dwight: You know what? You can all have jobs at Schrute Farms as human scarecrows. It doesn't pay much and you can't unionize.

Jim: So what is the problem?
Dwight: Angela.
Jim: I don't know what you want me to tell you, man. All I know is that every time I've been faced with a tough decision, there's only one thing that outweighs every other concern. One thing that will make you give up on everything you thought you knew, every instinct, every rational calculation.
Dwight: Some sort of virus?
Jim: Love.
Dwight: Oh.
Jim: Dwight, listen: no matter what happens, you gotta forget about all the other stuff. You gotta forget about logic and fear and doubt. You just gotta do everything you can to get to the one woman who's gonna make all this worth it. At the end of the day, you gotta jump. You love Angela, Dwight. I think you always have.
Dwight: You're a good assistant, Jim.

Dwight: [Speaking to Rachel Wallace] Are those real pearls?

Dwight: Oh, and Andy lost his masculinity, so congratulations on that.
Nellie: What do you mean?
Dwight: Erin made it clear to me that he was unable to perform sexually last night. By contrast, I went to sleep with an erection so large it was like I was wearing no blanket at all. Wow, I knew you'd win, but you just demolished him. I'm a little bit jelaous, actually. Reduced him to a mere ant.

Dwight: Hey! Guys, listen up, Michael is up on the roof and acting strange.
Andy: Whoa! What's the situation?
Dwight: Un-shun. I think he's suffering from depression. Re-shun.
Andy: Okay, when's the shunning thing going to end?
Dwight: Un-shun. Never. Re-shun. I think he wants you all to come out to the parking lot and watch him *die*.
Stanley: Is it nice outside?
Dwight: It's gorgeous. Let's go!
Stanley: Do I need my jacket?
Dwight: No, it really is. It's very nice. Come on!
Ryan: Will I be too warm in a long-sleeve tee?
Dwight: Everyone's going to be fine in exactly what they're wearing! Let's go!

[Jim sets a fence of pencils up between Dwight and his desk]
Dwight: You can't do that.
Jim: Why not?
Dwight: Safety violation. I could fall and pierce an organ.
Jim: We'll see.

Michael: [choosing team names for the company's beach day] We are going to choose team names. Dwight.
Dwight: We will be called Gryffindor.
Jim: Really? Not Slytherin?
Dwight: Slytherin are the bad guys, Jim.
Jim: I know. Okay, we will be Voldemort.
Dwight: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? I wouldn't do that.
Jim: [starts chanting] Vol-de-mort, Vol-de-mort...
[Kevin and Karen follow]
Jim: Vol-de-mort! Vol-de-mort! Vol-de-mort!
Dwight: OK, seriously. You really shouldn't be saying that.
Michael: Hey, hey, hey. Ok, Ok... Stanley, your team name?
Stanley: I don't care what you call my team.
Michael: Then I will name your team the Red team.
Stanley: [Crosses arms] No, the blue team.

Dwight: Cats do not provide milk or wool or meat.

Dwight: Question: is there firewood on the island?
Jim: I guess.
Dwight: Then I would bring an ax, no books.
Jim: No, it has to be a book, Dwight.
Dwight: Fine. "Physician's Desk Reference."
Jim: Nice. Smart.
Dwight: Hollowed out. Inside, waterproof matches, iodine tablets, beet seeds, protein bars, NASA blanket, and, in case I get bored, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone." No, "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban." Question: Did my shoes come off in the plane crash?

Michael: Live and let live.
Dwight: I'm not familiar with that expression.

Jim: [after he's been given a demerit] Like, what does a demerit mean?
Dwight: Let's put it this way. You do not want to receive three of those.
Jim: Lay it on me.
Dwight: Three demerits, and you'll receive a citation.
Jim: Now, that sounds serious.
Dwight: Oh, it is serious. Five citations, and you're looking at a violation. Four of those, and you'll receive a verbal warning. Keep it up, and you're looking at a written warning. Two of those, that will land you in a world of hurt, in the form of a disciplinary review, written up by me, and placed on the desk of my immediate superior.
Jim: Which would be me.
Dwight: That is correct.
Jim: Okay. I want a copy on my desk by the end of the day or you will receive a full dessaggelation.
Dwight: What's a dis... What's that?
Jim: Oh, you don't want to know.

Dwight: It's okay here, uh, but people sometimes take advantage, because it's so relaxed. And, I'm a volunteer sheriff's deputy on the weekends, and you cannot screw around there. It's sort of one of the rules.

Michael: Can you tell who's gay and who is not?
Dwight: Of course.
Michael: What about Oscar?
Dwight: Absolutely not.
Michael: Well, he is.
Dwight: Well, he's not dressed in women's clothes, so...

Dwight: I hope there will be management parables.

Dwight: Normally, I don't condone leaving early, but I have an appointment with the horse doctor. How that horse became a doctor, I don't know. No, I'm kidding. He's just a regular doctor who shoots your horse in the head when its leg is broken.

Jim: Wow, that's a lot of keys.
Dwight: The bigger the key chain, the more powerful the man.
Jim: That's right. The janitor said that.

Jim: What do we have here?
Dwight: What does it look like?
Jim: Dead goose.
Dwight: And circle gets the square.

Jim: I'm just saying that you can't be sure that it wasn't you.
Dwight: That's ridiculous. Of course it wasn't me.
Jim: Marijuana is a memory loss drug, so maybe you just don't remember.
Dwight: I would remember.
Jim: [pretending to be serious] Well, how could you if it just erased your memory?
Dwight: That's not how it works.
Jim: Now, how do you know how it works?
Dwight: Knock it off, okay? I'm interviewing you.
Jim: No! You said I'd be conducting the interview when I walked in here. Now, exactly how much pot did you smoke?

Dwight: This is a petition for the business park to upgrade their security cameras, as well as install two floodlights in the parking lot. And I know what you're thinking: Won't that just shed more light on the penises? But that is a risk we have to take. Pam, you can draw, kind of. Why don't you work with Phallus on drawing a picture of the exposer that I can post around the community?
Pam: Phallus?
Dwight: Phyllis. Sorry. I've got penises on the brain.

Jim: Dwight? Why are you such a jerk? I am triying to do something for my wife, and you keep...
Dwight: I'm barren, Jim.
Jim: What?
Dwight: My trouser hives are void of honey. I had congress with Angela, and the child that she bore did not issue from my loins. Thought I would be a father, and instead I am eunuch neutered by my own building.
Jim: Is this about the popcorn, or the X on the ceiling? Dwight, that was a prank.
Dwight: You mean you flooded my building with dangerous electromagnetic radiation as a prank?
Jim: No
Dwight: That's genius. That's the best prank you've ever done.
Jim: I'll take it.

Dwight: Yesterday was the first round of a branch-wide paper airplane contest. It was being sponsored by WeyerHammer Paper in an effort to get us to sell more of their new product, Airstream Deluxe A4, the Cadillac of paper. Its not so easy on the environment, if you know what I mean. It's practically made of plastic.

Clark: Dude, we're being conned.
Dwight: Go on.
Clark: These chicks are way too hot to be into us. Esther's just pretending to like you so that you'll buy her daddy a new tractor.
Dwight: No.
Clark: Yes. Her sister's trying to seduce me into buying an auger with her.
Dwight: What? Has the warranty expired on the auger you have now?

[Jim, Karen, Rolando, and a security guard stand in the stairwell as Michael and Dwight are wedged in between the wall and the copier]
Security: They sprayed me in the eye.
Dwight: [groaning] Scranton rules!
[Dwight sprays more Silly String off]
Michael: Stop! Stop it! Can you help me, please? I'm being crushed.
[Jim looks at the camera]

Dwight: [after Michael's meeting with Grotti] Did he threten you?
Michael: No Dwight. Not everything is a threat.
Andy: Mobsters are!
Michael: There's no such thing as monsters.

Dwight: I'm Michael's wing man. I've got his back. Two dates. He's got two dates tonight. My job is to keep Jan away from Carol and vice versa. Michael said, "We must deceive them, so as not to hurt them, and in that way, we honor them."

Dwight: Philadelphia, from the Greek, philia, meaning love, and adolph, meaning Adolf, the city that loves Adolf.

Dwight: [deleted scene] People respond to the human touch and that's what I give them. I can look at a client and I can say, "Hello, how are you? How's business been going?" And we can go back and forth for sometime and uh, then I'll say, How much, how many reams do you want?" And they'll order it and then I'll take care of all the sales. I'll make sure that they get that paper. And they appreciate that.

Dwight: And just as you have planted your seed in the ground, I am going to plant my seed in you.
Ryan: I don't think you know what you're saying.

Michael: What is the most inspiring thing I ever said to you?
Dwight: "Don't be an idiot." Changed my life.

Phyllis: [deleted scene] He asked if you've been acting withdrawn lately.
Stanley: And what did you say?
Phyllis: I said no.
Stanley: Hmmm.
Phyllis: You're welcome.
Dwight: Your turn, Stanley.
[Stanley just takes a drink from his mug]
Dwight: Angela, you're up.

Michael: Dwight. We are not mad, we are just disappointed.
David: No, we are mad.
Michael: Yes, we are. We are livid. But we are going to let this one slide.
Dwight: Thank you.
David: No, we're not.
Michael: I am not a mind reader, David.

[outside Michael's house, two police officers approach]
Dwight: I'll take care of this. Okay, what seems to be the problem, Officers?
Cop: Not now, Dwight.

Dwight: Ugh, they shouldn't televise any of this. It just encourages copycats.
Angela: Just say copies. Why do you have to drag cats into this?

Dwight: They say no man is an island. False! I am an island, and this island is volcanic, and it's about to erupt with the hot molten lava of strategy.

Creed: Ed was decapitated.
Michael: What?
Dwight: Really?
Creed: He was drunk as a skunk. He was flying down Route 6. He slides under an 18-wheeler. Pop, it snaps right off.
Michael: Oh my God!
Dwight: That is the way to go.

Dwight: Oh, man! If only Michael had children. That's how you really apply the pressure.
Charles: [sighing] What is wrong with you?

Ryan: For all their genorosity of spirit they password protect their wireless?
Kelly: Try 'Jesus'.
Dwight: Opus Dei.

Dwight: When you become close with someone, you develop a kind of sixth sense. You can read their moods like a book. And right now, the title of Michael's book is "Something Weird is Going On: What Did Jan Say? The Michael Scott Story." By Michael Scott with Dwight Schrute.

Dwight: If you can snap two chicken necks with a single motion, why use two motions to slaughter those chickens.

[Michael is on the roof and Dwight is below with a bullhorn]
Michael: My life! Oh, my life!
Dwight: Michael, what's wrong?
Michael: Everything's wrong. The stress of my modern office has caused me to go into a depression!
Dwight: Depression? Isn't that just a fancy word for feeling "bummed out"?
Michael: Dwight, you ignorant slut! Depression is a very serious illness. Over 32,000 people commit suicide every year according to a 2004 study.
Dwight: Is that the last year the data was available?
Michael: Yes.

Dwight: Now then, do you have any special needs or dietary restrictions?
Jim: Yes. We will be requiring a bedtime story.
Dwight: No.
Jim: Not even "Harry Potter"?
Dwight: No, Jim, come on.

Dwight: I need to change my emergency contact information from Michael Scott.
Ryan: O.K. To what?
Dwight: Just put The... Hospital. Contact number. Just put 9-1-1.

Pam: Hey, Dwight. I'm collecting resolution cards.
Dwight: Not doing that.
Pam: Why not?
Dwight: I've achieved plenty, and there's no better than the best.

Pam: I'm going to set up hand-sanitizing stations around the office.
Dwight: No. No. No. They will cost you your life.
Jim: Elaborate
Dwight: The worst thing you can do for your immune system is to coddle it. They need to fight their own battles. If Sabre really cared about our well-being, they would set up hand-desanitizing stations. A simple bowl at every juncture filled with dirt, vomit, fecal matter.
Pam: I'm not- I'm not going to do that.
Dwight: Exposing yourself to germs is the best way to make yourself stronger.
Jim: So by that rationale, if I had to sneeze, I should just sneeze on you.
Dwight: Yes. I would welcome it.
Jim: [Sneezes on Dwight] You're welcome.

Michael: Jim. Are you clicking a detonator?
Jim: It's a pen.
Dwight: Michael, come on.
Michael: Get back to work, Dwight. Please.
Dwight: Fine.
[clears throat]
Dwight: Hey. Tap away.
[Dwight puts noise-cancelling headphones on; Pam and Jim begin to blink rhythmically]

Dwight: I'm going to vomit.
Todd: Don't you yack on me, this shirt is Van Heusen.

Dwight: This is what I'm going to do. I'm going to randomly select three names and these three people will get liposuction. Um... Stanley, Phyllis, Kevin. And you will be responsible for your own medical bills.

Dwight: [after Ryan gulps down a beer] Just think, that temp agency could have sent you anywhere.
Ryan: [Stares into the camera] I think about that all the time.

Dwight: May I have your attention please? This will only take a moment of your time. Although I love this company more than almost anything in the world, I have decided to step down from my post and spend more time with my family. I do not fear the unknown and I will meet my new challenges head-on and I will succeed. And I will laugh in the faces of those who doubt me. It has been a pleasure working with some of you and I will not forget those of you soon but remember, while today it is me, we all shall fall. In other words, I am quitting.

Michael: I used to think that I had this perfect person out there waiting for me, but now I know that that's just silly. Because she's dead. What do you do?
Dwight: Wait till next year's chair catalogue comes out and find someone who's still alive.

Dwight: Okay, fine. Where's my wallet?
Jim: Oh, there it is: "J1."
Dwight: I don't have any...
Jim: Here, have some nickels.
Dwight: [putting nickels into vending machine] 5, 10, 15, 20, 25...

Dwight: Number one: Inverted penis.
Meredith: Could you mean vagina? Because if you do, I want that covered.
Dwight: I thought your vagina was removed during your hysterectomy.
Meredith: A uterus is different from a vagina. I still have a vagina.

Dwight: What is the ratio of Stanley Nickels to Schrute Bucks?
Stanley: The same as the ratio of unicorns to leprechauns.

Dwight: The petting zoo closes at 2, and the goat roast is at 3.

Dwight: Jan had the baby and Michael wasn't there to mark it. So the baby could be anybody's. Except Michael's.

Dwight: This is my grandmother's ring. It was made from a bullet I took out of her left buttock. She was a moonshiner, shot by Adolph Coors.

Dwight: [after finding out Pam lied about the new building] Pam, Pam, Pam...
Other: Yeah?
Nate: Pam?
Dwight: What?
Other: I'm Pam.
Nate: No you're not.
Dwight: Sorry, we have a colleague with the same name, so...
Other: Oh, that's fine.
Dwight: You're not a liar too, are you?
Other: I've been known to bend the truth...
Dwight: [interrupting] Dammit, Pam! Get out, right now! Leave! I mean it, get the hell out of here. Go!
[Pam hurries away]
Dwight: I can't wait to do to Pam what I just did... to Pam.

[showing Creed the picture of a pile of marijuana]
Creed: That is Northern Lights, Cannabis indica.
Dwight: [disappointed] No. It's marijuana.

Dwight: I say we bomb 'em. By 2020, they are going to be the world's largest economy and they're getting a taste for protein. We'll all starve.

Deangelo: Let's go downstairs, okay? Let's do it.
Dwight: Pass. If I wanted to see a pissing contest, I'd lock Mose in the chicken coop.
Deangelo: Damn it, Dwight! Enough! Get your ass downstairs or find a new place to sell paper!
Dwight: Okay. A little about me... I respond to strong leadership.

Michael: One thing that you need to remember is that there's no way of knowing who's a user, who's an abuser, because we don't know. It could be anybody. Your instinct is to say it's somebody like Stanley or Oscar...
Stanley: Excuse me?
Michael: No, no! Your instinct. That... Your gut reaction is to say that, but I don't! That's, that's... Those are instincts that have been created by media and hype. And they are wrong. What I am saying is that you just do not know who drug users are. It may be the person you least suspect. It may be somebody hot, like Pam, or it could be somebody matronly, like Phyllis, but just not me.
Phyllis: It's not me, either.
Michael: No? Okay, fine.
Jan: [on the phone] Michael, I'm gonna get going. I really don't think I need to be in this meeting.
Michael: Okay, well, I really think that...
[dial tone beeping]
Pam: Has she been on the phone the whole time?
Michael: Yeah. Sorry you had to hear that. It was a lovers' quarrel.
Dwight: Make-up sex. Nice!
Kevin: Nice.
Michael: Okay, let's get personal for a second, shall we?

Dwight: [Leaving Pam's desk] ... okay, see you later Pan.

Dwight: [delusional] You can't fire me. I don't work in this van.

Dwight: We have three rooms, each with a different theme.
Pam: What are the themes?
Dwight: America, Irrigation and Nighttime.

Dwight: [in Jim's office] Sign this.
Jim: Ah, ah, ah. Where's the "please"? We're not animals.
Dwight: Sign it.
Jim: No, not without a "please."
Dwight: Idiot.

Jim: [in the car, talking to Dwight and Michael over the walkie talkie, he sees Karen nearby] Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Karen's back.
Dwight: Is it Karen?
Michael: Take her to a motel. Make love to her, Jim.
Jim: No. I'm not doing that.
Michael: Just say you want to get back together.
Jim: No. I'm not doing that.
Michael: It doesn't have to mean anything. Just do it for Stanley. Come on, Jim. Just climb on top of her and think about Stanley. Oh, God.

Dwight: Women are like wolves. If you want a wolf, you have to trap it. You have to snare it. And then you have to tame it. Keep it happy. Care for it. Feed it. Lovingly, the way an animal deserves to be loved. And my animal deserves a lot of loving.

Dwight: It's just harmless steam to panic intruders.
- I 'd like to get harmful steam, but the prices are absurd.
- Break protocol!
- Break protocol!
- Break protocol!
- Oh, I'm saving a fortune on dry-cleaning.

Pam: [trying to make Dwight think that it's Friday] Oh, my God, did you watch "The Apprentice" last night?
Jim: Of course. It's on every Thursday night, so how could I miss it?
Pam: Can you believe who Trump fired?
Jim: No, that was unbelievable.
Dwight: Who? Who was it? Who did he fire?
Pam: You didn't see it?
Dwight: No. I went out and got drunk with my laser tag team last night. Crap! Never go out on a Thursday night. What the hell was I thinking?
[Jim nods with satisfaction toward camera]

Michael: Look at that.
Oscar: Huh?
Michael: Nice!
Oscar: I love cycling. Andy, I feel like a tourist in my own city. I literally can't wait to wake up every morning.
Pam: Okay.
Michael: She is a beaut!
Dwight: Can't beat a horse. A horse is a bike that peddles itself.
Oscar: Yes, it is.
Michael: Oh, look at that.
[pushing bike]
Michael: Smooth roll.
Oscar: Yeah.
Kevin: You got it! Lance Armstrong's Bike!
Oscar: Yes.
Meredith: His ass was on that seat? Alright!
Kevin: Nice.
Oscar: No, Meredith, that's not his actual bicycle, but it is the same exact model he uses.
Kelly: I'm on Sheryl Crow's side in that whole thing, so I feel really weird right now.
Pam: [crashing sound] Michael!
Michael: Oh, god!
Oscar: Oh...

Dwight: Actually, I do own property. My grandfather left me a 60-acre working beet farm. I run it with my cousin Mose. We sell beets to local stores and restaurants. It's a nice little farm.
Dwight: Sometimes teenages use it for sex.

Michael: Why do you have a diary?
Dwight: [whispering] To keep secrets from my computer.

Dwight: And as of this morning, we are completely wireless here at Shrute Farms, but as soon as I find out where Mose hid all the wires, we'll get all that power back on.

- Hell no. No.
- She wishes. No, no, no, no, no.No.
- Sir, I need to be able to feed all the guests. I understand.
- Excuse me.
Dwight: Set that down.
- Present yourself.

Michael: You lit your hair on fire today. What about tomorrow? What is going to happen when you come into work and you're dead?
Dwight: I stab her in the brain with a wooden stick.
Dwight: [to the camera] There are several ways to kill a zombie, but the most satisfying is to stab it in the brain with a wooden stick.

Dwight: I'll be dammed if I'm gonna let us lose me.

Michael: Are you ready to give me my discount now?
Delivery: No.
Michael: Ok, what have you been doing in here this whole time?
Delivery: What kind of business is this?
Dwight: We're a paper company. The best paper company in the whole wide world.
Michael: Alright, Dwight, knock it off.
[to the delivery kid]
Michael: You better think about what you're doing, young man.
Delivery: You better think about what you're doing.
Michael: No! I'm an adult, I don't have to think or do anything. You're a kid, you're a little snot-nosed, punk kid who thinks he's better than everybody else. Because he's some hot shot, and you don't know anything about sales. So stop being a disrespectful little jerk.
Delivery: Sales?
Michael: Yes, sales, you sell pizza, last time I checked that's called sales.
Delivery: You're such a loser.
Dwight: What did you just call him?
Delivery: A loser.
Dwight: What did you say?
Delivery: A loser.

Dwight: Well, that question is meaningless.
- Just go with the copy paper, it's your funeral.
- See how that works out for you.
- Hey.
- What's up? Hey.
- Same old.

[trying to stall the game until Pam returns]
Dwight: How many people need to get hurt before we learn a valuable lesson? One? Two? Three? Four?
David: Dwight...
Dwight: No, no. Hear me out. Five? Six?
David: Dwight.
Dwight: Seven? Can I finish, please?
David: Okay.
Dwight: Eight?

Andy: Dwight, I have exciting news for you.
Dwight: What?
Andy: I think you're going to like it.
Dwight: You can't tantalize me.
Andy: Oooh, maybe I can. I got an email... from corporate... that told me that...
Dwight: Okay.
[looks at watch and leaves]
Andy: That... you got a promotion!
[Dwight turns back]
Andy: Right? I mean that's not the kind of thing you wanna read quietly at your desk.
Dwight: If you make me head of sales one more time, I swear.
Andy: No, this is legit. You will be assembling a team to go to Tallahassee for three weeks to develop and launch a chain of Sabre stores.
Dwight: Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes, yes, yes, hi-yes! Yeah yeah yeah yeah!

Dwight: Do you have any idea how expensive wool is in Transylvania? 'Cause of the Euro.

[after getting instant messages from "the website"]
Dwight: It appears that website has become alive. This happens to computers and robots sometimes. Am I scared of a stupid computer? Please, that computer should be scared of me. I have been salesman of the month for 13 out of the last 12 months. You heard me right. I did so well last February that corporate gave me two plaques in lieu of a pay raise.

Dwight: Ever since Angela moved in and Mose had stopped sleeping at the foot of my bed, he's been acting pretty weird about this whole wedding thing.
Jim: Mose has been weird? That's so unlike him.

Andy: [about Angela] I hear she's single and ready to mingle. I'm thinking about making a play for her. What do you think? Crazy, right?
Dwight: I think it's inappropriate to date someone you work with.
Andy: Isn't that part of the fun?
Dwight: No. I think you should date Kelly.
Andy: She works here, too. How is that any different?
Dwight: She works in the annex. You're also welcome to date Toby.

Dwight: Hey, I have an idea. You know that extra bedroom? If the whole girlfriend thing never happens, that's where the nurse can live.

Dwight: [starts attacking plankers] Kids, don't try planking. It's dangerous.
[knocks Toby off table]
Dwight: Especially with me around.

Dwight: [talking quietly to Angela with Ryan nearby, using code to hide their affair] What about that meeting later to discuss finances?
Angela: Yes. But don't expect any cookie.
Dwight: [slowly whispering] But what if I'm hungry?
Angela: No cookie.

Dwight: [deleted scene] People use marijuana to escape. Jim does not have a girlfriend. His sales are nothing to brag about. And he does not belong to any organized clubs. If that were my life, I'd do drugs.

Dwight: I love catching people in the act. That's why I always whip open doors.

Michael: I think the old honor system is fine. For example, I have never slept with an employee, and believe me, I could have.
Dwight: Yeah, Meredith.
Michael: No, no. Katherine, remember her? Remember how hot she was? She would have definitely slept with me.
Kevin: She wasn't *that* hot.
Michael: [angrily] Yes, she was; dammit, Kevin!
Michael: Okay. You know, Michael...

Jim: Just have Dwight punch you.
Michael: Oh, yeah.
Michael: Well, that would be kind of worthless because I know a ton of 14-year-old girls who can kick his ass.
Jim: You know a ton of 14-year-old girls?
Dwight: What belt are they?

Dwight: Thank you, Mr. Scofield, for your time. Much appreciated. Oh
[looks down to read the business card notes]
Dwight: and tell me, um. How's your gay son?
Mr. Schofield: [pause] Excuse me?
[awkward silence]
Michael: [cut to Michael's talking head] I color code all my info. I wrote gay son in green. Green means go. So I know to go ahead and shut up about it. Orange, means orange you glad you didn't bring it up. Most colors mean don't say it.
Dwight: [cuts back to Scofield's office] How is, uh, Tom. The homosexual sophomore?

Dwight: [Holding Gabe in an arm block against Gabe's desk] Listen, you're a perfectly fine toilet. I'm just an extraordinary piece of crap.

Dwight: Otherwise, it's just malfeasance for malfeasance's sake.

Dwight: [running into work after discovering it really was a Friday] I'm here! I'm here! I'm here. It's okay!

Jim: Dwight left his cell phone on his desk, so, naturally, I paired it to my headset.
Dwight: [while phone is ringing] Okay, fine, I'll just let it go to voicemail.
Jim: [Presses button on headset] Hello, this is Dwight.
Pam: Hey, is this Dwight?
Jim: Yes, it is.
Pam: Oh, my goodness, you sound sexy.
Jim: Oh, thank you. I've been working out.
Dwight: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pam! Pam! You are not talking to Dwight right now! You are talking to Jim.
Pam: Dwight?
Dwight: No! Pam, I'm over here!
Pam: I'm confused.

Michael: [at a meeting] Has anyone ever come up to you and said, "You're not creative"?
Dwight: Yes.
Michael: Well, they're wrong. You are creative. You are damn creative, each and every one of you. You are so much more creative than all of the other dry, boring morons that you work with.
[they all look around, confused]
Jim: Who are you talking to, specifically?

Deangelo: [deleted scene] Hey, there he is!
Dwight: Here I am.
Deangelo: Hey, while I have you here, my brother scored some major Los Lobos tickets in AC. We're gonna party bus together. Heading down over this weekend. You interested?
Dwight: Can I drive the bus?
Deangelo: Probably not.
Dwight: No, thank you.
[talking head]
Dwight: Deangelo is a fine manager. I give him a B. The only reason it's not a B plus is he makes my skin crawl. Don't know why, just the quality, I guess.

Michael: The watermark, it's a one-time thing.
Barbara: I don't care! It was disgusting. Cartoon characters having sex?
Dwight: May I point out that the sex appeared to be consensual? Both animals were smiling.
Michael: Okay.

Dwight: Andy just gave me a chain with three weak links. Have you ever tried to use a chain with three weak links. I have, and now I no longer own an arctic wolf.

Dwight: I say we fill Michael's office with bees. My apiarist owes me a favor.
[David sighs]
Jim: Really? Does he do good work or...
Dwight: [scoffs] No, Jim, I use a bad apiarist.

Dwight: I've seen this kid before. He's one of the kids that sneaks onto my farm and steals my hemp.
Delivery: Yeah, I know that guy. He's that farmer that grows really crappy weed.

Dwight: I trained my major blood vessels to retract into my body on command. Also, I can retract my penis up into itself.

Dwight: I grew up on a farm. I have seen animals having sex in every position imaginable. Goat on chicken. Chicken on goat. Couple of chickens doing a goat. Couple of pigs watching. Whoever drew this got it exactly right.

Dwight: [to a potential sales client] Here's my card. It's got my cell number, my pager number, my home number and my other pager number. I never take vacations, I never get sick. And I don't celebrate any major holidays.

Dwight: Every day for eight years, I've brought pepper spray into this office to protect myself and my fellow employees. And every day, for eight years, people have laughed at me. Well, who's laughing now?

Michael: Okay, you know what? I will not donate my winnings to Comic Relief, since apparently, it doesn't exist. I am going to donate to Afghanistanis with AIDS.
Jim: Nope. I think you mean the aid to Afghanistan.
Michael: No, I mean Afghanistanis with AIDS.
Phyllis: Afghani.
Michael: What?
Phyllis: Afghani.
Michael: That's a dog.
Pam: No, that's Afghan.
Michael: That's a shawl.
Dwight: Wait, canine AIDS?
Michael: No. Humans with AIDS.
Creed: Who has AIDS?
Jim: Guys, the Afghanistananies.
Michael: Okay, you know what? No. No. AIDS is not funny. Believe me, I have tried.

Michael: [reading from the suggestion box] "You need to do something about your B.O."
Dwight: [repeating to staff] "You need to do something about your B.O."
Michael: Okay. Now, I don't know who this suggestion is meant for, but it's more of a personal suggestion. And not an office suggestion. Far be it from me to use this as a platform to embarrass anybody.
Toby: Aren't the suggestions meant for you?
Michael: Well, Toby, if by me you are inferring that I have B.O., then I would say that that is a very poor choice of words.
Creed: Michael, he wasn't inferring, he was implying. You were inferring.
Michael: Was I, Creed? Okay, well, you know, what I am implying is that when we're on an elevator together, I should maybe take the stairs. Because talk about stank. Not that I would ever say something like that in public, and I never have, and I never will. I just think it's something that we should be aware of, okay? Now that we've learned this, let's continue. See, this is good. We're learning and we're figuring some stuff out.

Michael: Dwight! Hey is it me or does this place smell like up-dog?
Dwight: What's up-dog?
Michael: Gotcha!
Michael: Oh, God. Crap! Nothin' how ya doing?
Dwight: Good. How are you doing?
Jim: [mouthing] So close.
Michael: Damn it.

Dwight: Last week I finally became permanent manager of Dunder Mifflin Scranton. My first project: increase security. I got these doors from a jewelry store that had recently gone out of business. Now they're protecting America's real treasure, paper. Every morning I email the day's security codes. Something that's been really missing from my life has been writing secret codes. It's not the KGB, but it's a start.

Dwight: Helen Mirren was born Helen Mirrenoff,
Dwight: That's right, you're fake-salivating over a Soviet-era Russian.

Dwight: Let's go over some of the symptoms of marijuana use, shall we? You tell me who this sounds like. Slow moving. Inattentive. Dull. Constantly snacking. Shows a lack of motivation.
Kevin: Hey.

Dwight: Knock-knock.
Michael: Who's there?
Dwight: K.G.B.
Michael: K.G.B. wh...
Dwight: [smacks Michael] WE will ask the questions!
Michael: What the HELL was that?

Dwight: Excuse me, somebody died in the upstairs bathroom didnt they?
Carol: No.

Dwight: I need a baby. I'll never outsell Jim and Pam without one. Also, I've been noticing a gaping hole in my life. Sometimes I wake up cradling a gourd.

Dwight: And Kevin with your fake task. Can you tell me now where paper comes from?
Kevin: Uh, the man tree puts its penis...

Dwight: We Schrutes don't need some Harvard doctor to tell us who's alive and who's dead. But, there was an unlucky streak of burying some heavy sleepers. And, when grave robbers discovered some scratch marks on the inside of some of the coffins, we decided to make sure that our dead were completely dead. Out of kindness.

Jim: Okay, let's just try this one on for size, and I apologize, 'cause it's right off the top of my head. An ice sculpture of you completely surrounded by a variety of chocolate-covered fruits.
Michael: Strawberries?
Jim: That's inspired.
Dwight: I said that!
[Dwight storms out]
Pam: Not classy.
Michael: Not classy at all.
Jim: Déclassé.
Michael: French! Classy.

Dwight: Stanley, could you come with me, please?
Stanley: No.
Dwight: As Assistant Regional Manager...
Stanley: "To the".

Dwight: [Irate that Kelly is buying from the computer that he is competing with] What're you doing? I am in the fight of my life against this computer and every sale counts!
Kelly: But you get to put the paper in this little shopping cart and then it says 'Thanks for shopping at Dunder Mifflin!'
Dwight: Damn it, Kelly, it knows! It knows what you did!
Darryl: Who knows?
Dwight: [Snatches ream of paper from Darryl and yells at Kelly] Return it! Return it now!
Darryl: [Snatches the ream back] Hey! How 'bout stop yelling at our sweet little Miss Kapoor over 500 sheets of paper and you get back to your desk. Start selling multiple reams, like a man?
Dwight: Y-you don't understand. Okay, if this makes the difference
[points at the ream of paper]
Dwight: I'm gonna tell It that YOU were responsible.
Darryl: [with a threatening voice] Who's "It"?

Dwight: What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning, the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier.

Dwight: When Han Solo returns to the Death Star in the Millennium Falcon, and shoots down the TIE fighters and saves the Rebel cause, do you think he does so for a free beer?

Oscar: Okay. Once in a while, I'll take a long lunch.
Michael: A siesta.
Dwight: Time thief. Time thief. Fire him!
Jim: Dwight, you've really never stolen any company time?
Dwight: Never.
Michael: You are a thief of joy.

Dwight: Blood alone moves the wheels of history!

Dwight: Hey... Why did you do it?
Michael: It was an *accident*.
Dwight: Was she talking back?
Michael: No.
Dwight: Just got sick of that face? Did she owe you money? Uh-oh... is this downsizing? Did she spurn your advances?
[Michael turns and glares at Dwight]

Clark: We can't just leave him bubble-wrapped like this.
Dwight: Are you kidding me? The bubble wrap is the only thing that's stopping his suit from getting wrinkled. These meetings are all about presentation.
Clark: That's actually really smart.
Dwight: Thank you.
Clark: God, if only there was any other use or situation for that kind of knowledge.

Dwight: In the wild, there is no health care. In the wild, health care is, "Ow, I hurt my leg. I can't run. A lion eats me and I'm dead." Well, I'm not dead. I'm the lion. You're dead.

Pam: Oh. You couldn't have watered it?
Jim: I literally did not know that existed until this moment.
Dwight: Well, I knew it existed, and I chose to let it die.

Dwight: [pushing Michael's face into wet cement] Force it in as deep as you can.
Michael: [muffled] That's what she said.

Kevin: [Kevin's voice in a video of Cookie Monster] Oscar, Toby said he left my Girl Scout cookies on my chair. Have you seen them? Wait I'm sitting on them.
[all laugh]
Andy: This is awesome!
Oscar: Thank you. It didn't even take that long.
Kevin: [Cookie Monster with Kevin's voice] What's the difference between a chimichanga,
[Kevin arrives behind the group]
Kevin: a chalupa, and a tostada? Call me back ASAP. It's urgent.
[Kevin speaking]
Kevin: This isn't funny. I don't talk like that.
[all continue laughing]
Phyllis: Say "Me eat cookie."
Kevin: No. I won't say it.
Dwight: Why is everyone clumped around accounting? Break it up, you clique.
Ryan: It's Kevin as Cookie Monster from Sesame Street.
Dwight: [gets up and starts to walk to Oscar's desk] Is that the program where all those puppets live in the barrio?
Phyllis: Mm-hmm.
Dwight: I love that show.
Kevin: [Cookie Monster with Kevin's voice] This is Kevin. This is Kevin.
Ryan: Good work, buddy.
Oscar: Thank you.
Dwight: That is an amusing link. I'd like it sent to me, please.
Oscar: Yes.
Kelly: Me, too Oscar.
Ryan: C.C. me.
Kevin: Angela, this is inappropriate.
Angela: This is my favorite day.

Michael: Okay, everybody, listen up. I have some bad news. Due to circumstances beyond my control...
Dwight: Impulsivity and inattention to detail.
Michael: Hey, hey. I have opened a box, which should not have been opened...
Dwight: Terrible mistake.
Michael: And distributed things which should not have been distributed.
Dwight: Undistributable.
Pam: Well, maybe we can put the box back together.
Dwight: Impossible. He opened it like an ape.
Oscar: I think we can do it.

Dwight: Most people don't even know that a candy cane represents a shepherd's crook. Which I assure you does not taste like peppermint. It tastes like sheep feces.
Oscar: How would anyone even know...
Dwight: Have you ever tasted a shepherd's crook?

Dwight: A 30-year mortgage at Michael's age essentially means that he's buying a coffin. Now, if I were buying my coffin, I would get one with thicker walls
[double bass playing in background through the wall]
Dwight: so you couldn't hear the other dead people.

[a furious Dwight barges into the conference room, interrupting a meeting involving Michael, Stanley and Phyllis. He opens a box containing all the paperwork from his numerous complaints against Jim and rifles through it, becoming angrier by the second]
Dwight: [shouting] No, no!
[to Michael]
Dwight: Four years of malfeasance unreported! This cannot stand.
Michael: Okay, calm down.
Dwight: No, you calm down. Whose side is Toby on?
Dwight: Whose side are you on?
Michael: Hey!
Dwight: Him or me? I cannot work with Jim anymore. Either he goes, or I go!
Michael: Dwight, stop...
Dwight: [shouting] You choose! One of us is out of here by the end of today!
[He grabs the box and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him]
Michael: ...Okay.

Phyllis: [the employees are listing what books they would like to read on a desert island] "The Da Vinci Code."
Angela: "The Da Vinci Code." I would take "The Da Vinci Code," so I could burn "The Da Vinci Code."
Dwight: Okay, great. That's gonna keep you warm for, like, seven seconds.

[Dwight is angry at his co-workers roasting Michael at his self-proclaimed roast]
Dwight: How dare you all attack him like this?
Michael: Oh, stop it, Dwight.
Dwight: Michael is your superior.
Michael: No no no no no no!
Dwight: Okay? You should be bowing down to him!
Michael: Dwight, you're supposed to do it this way!
Dwight: [to Michael] Okay, no. They don't understand who they have...
Michael: That is the way you're supposed to do it, idiot.
Dwight: You're interrupting me. I'm trying to get your back.
Michael: Idiot. Idiot! Idiot. Idiot.
Dwight: Are you calling me an idiot?
Michael: Idiot.
Dwight: Don't you ever talk to me that way. You pathetic, short little man. You don't have any friends, or any family, or any land.

Pam: Jim, just don't think of it as degrading. Think of it as you happen to be moving the pizza six inches this way, and he happens to be biting it.
Dwight: I prefer for him to think of it as degrading.

Dwight: My resolution is: Meet a loose woman.
Andy: That's a good one.
Dwight: Yeah?
Andy: You know what? That's my new one. I'm taking that one, too.
Darryl: You know what you guys should do? Go to the bookstore at lunch. There's tons of cuties and it's easy to talk to 'em. "Hey, what book is that?" "Cool, lets hang out tonight." " Sex already? Whoa."
Andy: The bookstore?
Dwight: It's that easy?
Darryl: I'll come wit' you, show you how it's done.

Dwight: Angela, this child is definitely mine. It looks just like me.
Angela: Every baby looks just like you. Your face kind of looks like a baby.

Dwight: Would I ever leave this company? Look, I'm all about loyalty. In fact, I feel like part of what I'm being paid for here is my loyalty. But if there were somewhere else that valued loyalty more highly, I'm going wherever they value loyalty the most.

Dwight: Who are you?
Asian: Who am I? I'm Jim. We've been working together for 12 years. Weird joke, Dwight.
Dwight: You're not Jim. Jim's not Asian.
Asian: You seriously never noticed?

Dwight: My first love is beet farming, but it's a young man's game. Who ever heard of an old beet farmer?

Dwight: Excuse me, everyone, can I have your attention, please? I just wanted to say that the women in this office are terrible. Especially the ones who wrote that stuff about Michael on the bathroom wall. Having a bathroom is a privilege. It is called a ladies' room for a reason, and if you cannot behave like ladies, well, then you are not going to have a bathroom.
Pam: You're taking away our bathroom?
Dwight: We are going to have two mens' rooms.
Phyllis: But where would we... go?

Dwight: In an ideal world I would have all ten fingers on my left hand so my right hand could just be a fist for punching.

[as David Wallace congratulates Dwight for the golden-ticket idea and Michael tries to get Dwight to admit it's not his]
Jim: You're talking to Dwight Schrute, the biggest "Wonka" fan I know. I mean, you've been talking about that movie for years.
Michael: What?
Jim: [to Dwight] You know what, I even made fun of you when you dressed up as Willy Wonka to pitch this idea, and, for that, I apologize.
Dwight: Apology rejected.

Dwight: I'm gonna use SMS text.
Angela: Okay.

Dwight: Moving is one of the most stressful things you can do in life. You'll probably just take it out on your kid. Jim will turn to the drink. The family will fall apart. And 25 years from now, Cece will become world famous... for stripping!
Pam: That's a sad story. I have another one. We move. The other tenants follow. The bank takes the building, takes your farm, takes your car, and beats the crap out of you. Penniless, you die. And my daughter, Cece, dances on your grave, fully clothed.

Pam: So you would be the regional manager and the assistant regional manager, Andy is your number two. I would be the secret assistant regional manager.
Dwight: Mmm, let's call it secret assistant to the regional manager.
Pam: Mm-hmm.
Dwight: Do you accept?
Pam: Absolutely I do.

Dwight: [Dwight comes in dressed as Jim as revenge] Pam.
[drums on her desk]
Pam: [amused] Hey, Dwight. You look really nice today.
Dwight: [scoffs] I look like an idiot!
[goes over to his desk]
Dwight: Hey, Karen.
[flattens his hair to make it more like Jim's]
Karen: Hey, Dwight. Looking sharp.
Dwight: Yeah, that's 'cause I'm your boyfriend, Jim Halpert.
[Karen smiles]
Dwight: Hey, Karen. Wanna get together later and have sexual intercourse 'cause you're my girlfriend?
Jim: [looks at Karen] Do you?
Karen: No. I'm good. Thanks.
Jim: Okay.
[Dwight imitates Jim's expressions; Jim is impressed]
Jim: Look at that.
Dwight: I'm Jim Halpert.
Jim: Spot on.
Dwight: [makes some more faces and mumbles] A little comment.

Dwight: [Diversity Day exercise; Dwight has a card on his head that says "Asian"] "Lots of cultures eat rice" doesn't help me.

Michael: I need something kind of embarrassing, you know. Kind of fun, inside.
Dwight: She had a hysterectomy.
Michael: Which one is that again?
Dwight: That's when they remove the uterus.
Michael: Oh, God! Dwight, no.

Dwight: Attention, everyone, I just got a text from Michael. He says "personnel day." Are we hiring?
Jim: Yeah. You're being replaced.

[in regards to Jo coming in to talk with Dwight as acting manager]
Dwight: So I expect you to be on your best behavior, which means none of you will be insubordinate, nor will you foment insurrection.
Jim: Question. If we've already fomented insurrection, may we be grandfathered in?
Dwight: Define "foment."
Jim: You define "foment."

Jim: I can't believe how bad this looks.
Dwight: Are you trying to hurt my feelings? Because, if so, you are succeeding. Fortunately, my feelings regenerate twice the speed of a normal man's.

Dwight: [on phone with Jim] I hope you've been paying your wig storage bills, Jimbo, because it's time for another episode of Handsome and Stinky: Paper Brothers for Hire.
Jim: Sorry, Stinky, can't do it. Too busy.
Dwight: Oh, God, this again? You're Stinky.
Jim: Okay, there's no possible way I can get there, so just ask Phyllis. She can be your older sister or something.
Dwight: Phyllis, my sister? More like my dead great-great-grandmother who died of stupidity.
Phyllis: I have ears, Dwight.
Dwight: Oh, do you really have ears, Phyllis? Like all human beings? We all have ears.
[back to Jim]
Dwight: See what you leave me with here, Jim?
Jim: Hey, I'm in Philadelphia right now.
Dwight: How is that my problem? Get in your car and drive down here. You can make it in 30 minutes if you drive 240 miles per hour.
Jim: Huh. How long would it take me if I drove 300 miles an hour?
Dwight: Hmm. That's a good... question. 300 times...
[Jim hangs up]
Dwight: 180... Um that comes to 25 minutes.
[realizes Jim hung up]
Dwight: Yes. Oh, well, thank you, Jim. Yes, I am better than you. Thanks for acknowledging that. Okay, bye bye. Love you.

Dwight: [noticing the women having a meeting] That's a terrible idea.
Jim: What is?
Dwight: Them in there all together. If they stay in there too long, they're gonna get on the same cycle. Wreak havoc on our plumbing.

Dwight: What if two couples want to go at the same time?

Dwight: Thank you, thanks so much. Um, I wanna dedicate this award to something that uh... we take for granted in our daily lives, and that is the humble trash can. This is for you trash can!
[tosses his Dundie in a trash can]

Mr. Brown: Now this is a simple acronym: H.E.R.O. At Diversity, we believe it's very easy to be a hero. All you need are: Honesty, Empathy, Respect, and Open-mindedness.
Dwight: Excuse me, I'm sorry, but that's not all it takes to be a hero.
Mr. Brown: Okay, well, what is a hero to you?
Dwight: A hero kills people, people that wish him harm. A hero is part human and part supernatural. A hero is born out of a childhood trauma, or out of a disaster, and must be avenged.
Mr. Brown: Uh, okay, you're thinking of a superhero.

Dwight: [making gun noises]
Jim: What are you doing?
Dwight: Vietnam sounds...
Jim: Stop, stop. Stop.

Jim: Dwight, should she
Jim: be our manager?
Dwight: I wouldn't let her manage a celery farm.
Dwight: [In Talking Heads] Those who can't farm. Farm celery.

[Dwight panting] Hey, everybody. Look what we have.
Michael: Nice, huh?
- I've got it leveraged.
Dwight: Push. Straight up.
Michael: On three. Ready?
- Big. One, two, three.
Dwight: One, two, three.
- Merry Christmas.

Dwight: Just once, I would like to be a puppet master and have nothing go wrong. Is that too much to ask?

Dwight: Total death belongs to Gettysburg, but when you're talking D.P.A., that's deaths per acre, nothing beats the Battle of Schrute Farms.

Dwight: Pam is constantly throwing up because of the pregnancy. If she eats something the fetus doesn't like, she is screwed. It's amazing. A three-ounce fetus is calling the shots. It's so bad ass.

Dwight: If you want people to put the best face on something, why would you get two people who have probably never cut the face off of anything in their lives?

Dwight: That baby is a Schrute. And unless somebody taught Mose sex, that baby is mine.

Girl: I found the needle in the haystack!
Dwight: Hey, congratulations. You know what your prize is?
Girl: I don't know.
Dwight: Nothing. Life lesson - some tasks are not worth doing.

[first lines]
Dwight: Last week I gave a fire safety talk.
[clears throat]
Dwight: And nobody paid any attention. It's my own fault for using PowerPoint. PowerPoint is boring. People learn in a lot of different ways, but experience is the best teacher.
[lights a cigarette]
Dwight: Today, smoking is gonna save lives.
[throws cigarette into garbage can filled with paper and lighter fluid]

Pam: Oh, wow. I forgot how pretty your house is.
Dwight: This is the newest addition built by Erasmus Schrute in 1808. It doubled as a tuberculosis recovery room until 2009.

Dwight: [Toby uses tester on wall as Erin marks wall with red tape X] Oh, god.
Phyllis: What's going on?
Dwight: Nothing! Nothing is going on. Keep moving, please.
Stanley: What's he measuring?
Dwight: Okay, excuse me. I am the landlord. This is between me and the management, no one else. Please.
Toby: It's an EMF hotspot.
Phyllis: [Gasps] Oh my god!
Oscar: It stands for electromagnetic field, generally caused by a concentration of wiring in one area
[Erin marks red tape X on the floor]
Oscar: especially if they're poorly insulated. Dwight.
Andy: Um, Okay I'm just walking into this. Am I to understand there is a bee hive in the wall?
Toby: You think I have a machine for measuring bee hives?
Andy: I was just asking a question, Toby. How are you not murdered every hour?
Stanley: Well I'm not getting paid to work in a microwave oven.
Dwight: Okay, listen. Everything here is up to code.

Dwight: Pam and Karen, I am ordering you to cease and desist all party planning immediately.
Pam: You can't do that.
Dwight: As ranking number three in this office, I am order...
Andy: [grunts] I'm number three.
Dwight: You're number four.
Andy: Yeah, but I'm number three.
Dwight: Uh, no.
[to Pam]
Dwight: You must turn over to me all Christmas decorations and party paraphernalia immediately. They will be returned to you on January 4th.
Jim: Okay, I think I can help here.
Dwight: Okay, good. They...
Jim: As ranking number two, I am starting a committee to determine the validity of the two committees, and I am the sole member of the committee. The committee will act on this now.
Dwight: Okay, this is stupid.
Jim: Could you please keep it down? I'm in session.
[long pause]
Jim: I have determined that this committee is valid.
Dwight: What? No! No! Wait! Wait, wait, wait.
[thinks about it]
Dwight: Permission to join the Validity Committee.
Jim: Permission denied.
Dwight: Damn it.

Michael: [over the walkie-talkie] We are in the stairwell.
Dwight: We are climbing some stairs. I am breathing heavily.
Jim: Okay, you know what? You really don't need to be updating me as much as you're updating me.

Pam: Well, I just want to take a minute to talk to you all about something very serious. Once every hour, someone is involved in an internet scam. That man is Michael Scott.
Pam: He's supporting about 20 Nigerian princesses.
Michael: Hey, you know what? Forgive me for caring. Right?
Pam: Well, you know, Michael is a great delegator. He never does any work himself. Ever.
[Dwight claps loudly]
Dwight: Ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ha.
Pam: And one time, I walked in on him naked... and his thing is so small.
Kevin: How small is it?
Pam: If it were an iPod it would be a Shuffle!

Michael: Dwight, what is your middle name?
Dwight: Danger.
Michael: Something with a "K."
Jim: It's Kurt. Wow, I am so sad that I know that.

Dwight: Okay. First, let's go over some parameters. How many people can I fire?
Michael: Uh, none. You're picking a healthcare plan.

Dwight: It's very unusual for Michael not to show up to work. My guess, he's either deeply depressed or an icicle has snapped off his roof and impaled his brain. He has this terrible habit of standing directly underneath them and staring up at them. And I always say, "Michael, take two steps back and stare at the icicle from the side." And he's like, "No, I like the way they look from standing directly underneath them." It was only a matter of time.

Jim: [referring to Dwight's Volunteer Sheriff's uniform] You look cute today, Dwight.
Dwight: Thanks, girl.

- All right, hey, Dwight...
- Whoa!
Dwight: Hike.
Michael: You all right, Ryan?
- Ryan?
- Yeah.
- Pam!

Dwight: When Michael was in charge, this place was like the Roman Empire. And the Wild West. And war-torn Poland. And Poland.

Dwight: In the Schrute family, we believe in a five-fingered intervention. Awareness, education, control, acceptance and punching.

Dwight: How could Robert transfer Nellie here after the Sabre store debacle? She stinks of failure. The fact that she could show her face around here is an embarrassment. I should know. I'm in an identical situation.

Dwight: Before I do anything, I ask myself "Would an idiot do that?" and if the answer is yes, I do not do that thing.

Michael: My point is... A penis, when seen in the right context, is the most wonderful sight for a woman. But in the wrong context, it is like a monster movie.
Dwight: "Alien."
[makes monster noise]

Pam: What's wrong, Michael?
Michael: I got gum in my hair.
Pam: You do.
Michael: This just stinks. Don't touch it. Please don't touch it.
Dwight: You've got a ton of dandruff.
Michael: Okay, let me be.
Jim: How'd you get gum in your hair?
Michael: I was walking in, and I noticed something shinny under Stanley's car, and I got under to see what it was, and I messed up my hair, all for a stupid piece of tinfoil.
Jim: But best case scenario, you thought it was a quarter.
Michael: Kill me... right now.
Pam: We have peanut butter in the kitchen.
Michael: I don't feel like peanut butter. Get me an ice cream sandwich.
Jim: Nope. Not for you it's for your hair, and it is 9 am.
Pam: No, Dwight, not the good peanut butter. People are going to get mad.
Michael: Hey, hey, hey. This is my hair we're talking about.

[Dwight moans in stairwell]
Jim: Did I ever tell you why I left Scranton?
[Dwight mumbles]
Jim: Yeah, I didn't think I had. Well, it was all about Pam.
Dwight: [mumbling] Beesley?
Jim: Yeah. I mean, she was with Roy, and I just couldn't take it. I mean, I lost it, Dwight. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't concentrate on anything. And weird stuff, like food had no taste. So my solution was to move away. It was awful. And it is something that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. And that includes you.
[Jim sighs and returns to the office]
Pam: Hey, I was thinking about dinner, we...
[Jim kisses Pam passionately, cutting her off]
Jim: Dinner. Let's see, maybe we should try the new Italian place where the dry cleaner used to be.
Pam: [a bit shocked, smiling] Okay.
Jim: Yeah?
Pam: Yeah.
Jim: Okay.
Pam: [in confessional] Jim's just really passionate about Italian food.
Jim: [smiling] Yeah. I'm very passionate about Italian food.
[Jim sits back down at his desk; Pam and Jim smiling at each other]
Jim: In fact, I'm in love with Italian food.

Dwight: So, what's the joke? You're not perfect, either.
Pam: We're not laughing at you, Dwight.
Dwight: So, who are we laughing at?
Pam: Just something somebody wrote.
Dwight: Who, Dave Barry?
Kelly: [laughs] No, no. Just something that was written on the ladies' room wall.
Dwight: What is it? Who wrote it?
Pam: It's kind of private.
Phyllis: [whispers] It's about Michael.
Dwight: That is defacement of company property, so you better tell me. Kelly, if you tell me, you'll be punished less.
Pam: [laughing] Okay, now I'm laughing at you.

[going into Michael's office to receive his customer reports]
Jim: That is me. Wish me luck.
Dwight: No way.
Pam: [on Jim's Bluetooth] Good luck.
Jim: Thanks.
Dwight: I didn't say anything.
Pam: I love you.
Jim: I love you, too.
Dwight: What do you think I'm saying to you?

[Jim talking to Michael and Dwight over the walkie-talkie]
Jim: All right, Great Scott, if you found that choking hazard poster, just head on home.
Michael: [over walkie] We've got something far better, their crown jewel. Their industrial copier.
Jim: Isn't that thing huge?
Dwight: It's enormous, but it's got wheels. We're wheeling it down the hall into the stairwell. Get the car ready, keep the engine running.
Jim: No. That is a terrible idea. Don't do this.
[Michael screams over the walkie as there is loud crashing heard, too]
Michael: [groaning] My hip bone! We're wedged between the copier and the railing! I'm stuck. Oh, my left hip!
Dwight: Leave us, Jim! Leave us. Save yourself.
Michael: Help us. No! Don't leave us. We need help, Jim!
Jim: Okay, first of all, stop using my name. And second of all...
Michael: You've got to move out!
Jim: Damn it, guys!
Michael: [to Dwight] Would you move over just a little bit?
Dwight: I'm losing control of my bladder!

Dwight: I wish I could menstruate. If I could menstruate, I wouldn't have to deal with idiotic calendars anymore. I'd just be able to count down from my previous cycle. Plus, I'd be more in tune with the moon and the tides.

[Dwight is talking to Jim in Dwight's office]
Dwight: Jo is coming later today. I cannot have a subordinate trying to make me look stupid. Okay? I need you to promise me you'll be on your best behavior.
Jim: I *promised* other people that I would be on my worst behavior. And I gave them my word, so...
Dwight: Don't make me fire you.
Jim: You can't fire me. You're acting manager, not office manager, so you have no firing powers.
Dwight: Don't make me pre-fire you.
Jim: [serious tone] You wouldn't dare.
Dwight: Watch this. You're pre-fired. And when I'm promoted, you'll be full-fired.
[Jim stands up and talks softly]
Jim: If you get promoted. And if you haven't fallen in love with me by then.
Dwight: [shocked] What?

Ryan: Did you see Saw?
Dwight: Of course I seesaw, Mose and I seesaw all the time.

Michael: There's only one place to get authentic New York-style sushi.
Dwight: Tokyo?

Dwight: Check for an organ donor card. If he has one, we only have minutes to harvest.
Creed: He has no wallet. I checked.

Dwight: There's parts of her I don't even recognize. There's this one hanging part in particular that's some sort of flap. It's like a prehensile wing or something.

Dwight: Michael wants us to bond, so we need topics for conversation.
Jim: Ponies.
Dwight: No.
Ryan: How about rainbows?
Dwight: No.
Jim: Flowers?
Dwight: No!
Ryan: Makeup?

Jim: Name.
Dwight: Dwight Schrute.
Jim: Thank you, Mr. Schnute. We will let you know.

Dwight: Yes. I have decided to shun Andy Bernard for the next three years. Which I'm looking forward to. It's an Amish technique. It's like slapping someone with silence. I was shunned from the age of four until my sixth birthday for not saving the excess oil from a can of tuna.

Andy: Where are you going?
Pam: Uh, not on a three month boat trip.
Andy: Wha? Oh, burn.
[laughs, Angela and Dwight move to leave]
Andy: Uh, excuse me. What, everyone can just leave whenever they want now?
Dwight: How dare you?
Andy: I'm still the boss!

Dwight: The eyes are the groin of the head.

[deleted scene]
Dwight: State your business!
Andy: I am dying of love sickness and horny sickness.
Dwight: That isn't possible, unless you mean gonorrhea.
Andy: I'm talking about Angela, okay? Did you hear what she was saying to Pam the other day?
Dwight: Yes, I did, except I don't think she means it. Angela is in a great deal of pain because of the death of her cat and she is in a kind of grieving process and it makes her say things. So, best you just lay off.
Andy: No can do. I am itching all over with Angela-pox.
Jim: Oh, my God. You do have gonorrhea.

Dwight: The problem, Jim, is that people who are really suffering from a medical condition won't receive the care they need because someone in this office is coming up with ridiculous stuff. "Count Choculitis?"
Jim: Sounds tough.
Dwight: Why did you write that down, Jim? Is it because you know I love Count Chocula?

Dwight: Please knock. This is an office.
Jim: [pointing to sign] It says "workspace."
Dwight: Same thing.
Jim: If it's the same thing, then why'd you write "workspace"?

Dwight: Second best Bananas Foster I've ever had.

[telling Jim a case he's solved]
Dwight: Okay, one, Case of the Beet Bandit. Missing beets from all over the farm, no footprints. Inside job, Mose in socks. Boom, case closed.

Michael: I've never framed a man before. Have you?
Dwight: No, I've framed animals before. I framed a raccoon for opening a Christmas present. And I framed a bear for eating out of the garbage.

Dwight: I will never be happier than I am right now. I will also be never less happy. I will be at my current maximum happiness for the rest of my life, because I am manager of the Scranton branch of Dunder Mifflin. Acting manager.

Dwight: [Speaking to camera] PBS, the propaganda wing of Bill and Melinda Gates.
[Looks directly at camera]
Dwight: And viewers like you.

[Deleted scene]
Dwight: I like Karen. She's pretty... appears intelligent.
Jim: Well, I like pretty women... with the appearance of intelligence.

Dwight: Brain teaser: I have two coins, totaling 15 cents. One of them is not a nickel. What are they?
Ryan: A dime and a nickel.
Dwight: No. I said one of them is not a nickel.
Ryan: But the other one is. I've heard that before.
Dwight: Okay. A man and his son get into a car accident. They are rushed to the hospital. The doctor says, "There's no way I can operate on this boy, because he's my..."
Ryan: [cuts him off] "Because he's my son." The doctor is the boy's mother.
Dwight: A man is found hanging from the ceiling...
Ryan: [cuts him off] He stepped on a block of ice, hung himself and the ice melted.
Dwight: A hunter...
Ryan: [cuts him off] It's a polar bear, because you're at the North Pole.
Dwight: Damn it!

Dwight: Jim couldn't land me in a thousand years.
Jim: But you're saying there's a chance.

Dwight: [Deleted scene; reading poem] Mother Earth by Dwight Kurt Schrute. The water runs, the Sun will glint, this is our environment. The Hay King steps upon the ground. He wields a giant man-sword 'round. He penetrates Mother Earth once, twice, again and again and again and again for all he's worth Pounding into her soft warm dirt. Her lips quivering, mounds shaking in ecstasy and sudden relief. Thank you.

Michael: Why are you here?
Dwight: When Darryl was coming, you said you wanted me here for protection.
Michael: Not. I said, not that.

Phyllis: I knew the party was today, but nobody asked me to plan it, so I didn't. Hmm, funny how that works.
Meredith: [Scoffs] We're out there sweating our balls off every day, bustin' our balls. We deserve a Christmas party!
Nellie: Well, then, why don't we just get some liquor and those mini-cupcakes?
Kevin: Mini-cupcakes? As in the mini version of regular cupcakes, which is already a mini version of cake? Honestly, where does it end with you people?
Dwight: What about an authentic Pennsylvania Dutch Christmas? Drink some gluhwein, enjoy some hasenpfeffer. Enjoy Christmas with Saint Nicolas' rural German companion, Belsnickel.
Jim: Yes! That, that, that! We're definitely doing that. Are we all in agreement?
Kevin: No.
Angela: No!
Jim: Done, right?
Angela: No.
Stanley: No. I want Tropical Christmas.
Meredith: Topless Christmas.
Creed: Tapas Swiss Miss.

Dwight: Someone attack me. Kevin, Go!
Kevin: No way. Last time, you pulled my pants down and then tried to choke me with my own shoelace.
Dwight: False. I did choke you with your shoelace.

Andy: Okay, so tell me exactly what kind of deal you are getting now, and I'll tell you how we can beat it.
The: Uh, well we've been going with...
Erin: Andy.
Andy: Yeah.
Erin: You have a very important call.
Andy: I'm sorry - I'm with a very important client. It'll have to wait.
Erin: Are you sure? It's really, really important.
Andy: There is nothing more important to me right now than this meeting.
Erin: Really? Because your mother is dead.
The: Oh my God.
Andy: I don't think she's dead.
Erin: She's dead. She was hit by a bus.
Andy: She's not dead. This is exactly the kind of thing my mom pulls.
Erin: This isn't one of those times. It's the police. They said it's the worst they've ever seen.
Dwight: Andy, I'm really sorry about your mother. My deepest condolences.
The: Oh, you must take this call. It's...
Andy: Yeah. Um line 1?
Erin: Line 2.
Andy: Hi.
Darryl: [on phone] It's Darryl. Erin told me to pretend to be a cop and say your mom died.
Andy: Ooh, gosh!
Darryl: Dude.
Andy: Officer.
Darryl: Look man, this is a bad idea.
Andy: Did she have any last words or?
Darryl: Really? That is messed up man.
Andy: Oh, make sure that your client gets the best deal possible.
Darryl: You're a bad man Andy Bernard.
Andy: That is so mom.
Darryl: That stuff can come back to get you. It's called karma. You do not want to be messing around. I got an uncle...
Andy: Alright, thank you, officer. Erin please hold all my other calls. Where were we?

Deangelo: Dwight. What's your take?
Dwight: What's the argument here? NBA, WNBA. One is a sport, one is a joke. I love sports, I love jokes. Room for all.
Deangelo: Man, you're smart!

Dwight: Here's how I'm gonna help out from now on. I'm going to not care, and I'm gonna sit around quietly waiting for Andy's inevitable demise.

Jim: Okay, with all due respect to everyone here, I think the most worthy opponent of you is you.
Dwight: That is correct, unless there happen to be measles present.

Jim: Hey, Andy.
Andy: Yo.
Jim: By any chance, did you see "Battlestar Galactica" last night?
Andy: No, I did not. Was that any good?
Jim: Actually not. It was really so-so.
Dwight: Okay.
[Jim threatens with the stopwatch]
Andy: I mean, I like all the crazy monsters and stuff, you know, like Klingons and Wookiees and all that, but...
[Dwight turns to respond, but Jim shows the stopwatch again]
Jim: Sorry, was there something you wanted to add, Dwight?
Andy: Is that anything like the original "Battlestar Galactica"?
Jim: You know what's weird? It's practically a shot-for-shot remake.
Andy: Really? Huh. That's cool.
Jim: The story's kind of bland. It's about this guy named Dumbledore Calrissian...
Dwight: Okay.
Jim: ...who needs to return the ring back to Mordor.
Andy: That doesn't sound right.

[Michael is driving himself and Dwight back from an attempt at buying a new condo]
Dwight: You know, you can always refinance your mortgage. We
[he and his cousin]
Dwight: had a 15-year on our beet farm, we paid it off early.
Michael: Yeah, well, you know what? Nobody cares about your stupid beet farm. Beets are the worst.
Dwight: People love beets.
Michael: Nobody likes beets.
Dwight: Everyone loves beets.
Michael: Nobody likes beets, Dwight. Why don't you grow something that everybody does like? You should grow candy. I'd love a piece of candy right now. Not a beet.

Dwight: You're not stupid. Jazz is stupid.
Angela: Jazz is stupid. If they'd just play the right notes.

- Then I'll grind up thejumbo chalk and blow it in his eyes.
- Dwight, nothing with the eyes. Please?
- Okay, Jim.
- Oh, my god, that's her. That's her. Go. Go. Go. Go.Go.Go.Go.Go.
Dwight: Move. Move. Move.
- Move. Move.
Michael: Shut up.
- This is the dumbest thing we've ever done.

Dwight: Do I believe that Michael possesses the skills to survive in a hostile environment? Let's put it this way. No, I do not.

Carol: [regarding the new condo Michael is buying] It's a very gay-friendly neighborhood.
Michael: [unsure] Oh, good. That's good. It's good to be accomodating of that.
Dwight: Let's go check out the master bedroom.

Dwight: You could assume everyone is and not say anything offensive.
Michael: Yeah. I'm sure everyone would appreciate me treating them like they were gay.

Dwight: Well they can't all be winners. But Trevor's next, and he's a real professional. You say, "jump," and he says, "on who?" He loves to jump on people, that Trevor.

Jim: [Jim sits at his desk, dressed like Dwight] Question, what kind of bear is best?
Dwight: That's a ridiculous question.
Jim: False. Black bear.
Dwight: Well, that's debatable. There are basically two schools of thought.
Jim: Fact, bears eat beets. Bears, beets, "Battlestar Galactica."
Dwight: Bears do not... What is going on? What are you doing?
Jim: [in confessional] Last week, I was in a drugstore, and I saw these glasses. Four dollars. And it only cost me $7 to recreate the rest of the ensemble, and that is a grand total of $11.
Dwight: [Back at their desks] You know what? Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. So I thank you.
[Jim takes a bobblehead doll out of his suitcase and sets it on his desk]
Dwight: Identity theft is not a joke, Jim! Millions of families suffer every year!
Jim: [imitating Dwight] Michael!
Dwight: Oh, that's funny. Michael!

Dwight: [reading from Struwwelpeter] "The great tall tailor always comes to little girls that suck their thumbs." Are you listening Sasha? Right? "And ere they dream what he's about, he takes his great sharp scissors out and then cuts their thumbs clean off."

Dwight: One must wrestle fear to the ground. You will now wrestle my cousin Mose!

[deleted scene]
[as Dwight plays Second Life, his character opens up his closet to find his rocket launcher in Jell-O]
Dwight: Who put my rocket launcher in Jell-O?
[Jim's Second Life character flies just outside the window]

Michael: We think a lot a lot alike. Sometimes you will think something, and I will say what you're thinking.
Dwight: Okay, what am I thinking right now?
Michael: Nacho chips.
Dwight: No. I was thinking about how the skin is the largest organ of the body.

Kelly: Ciao.
Dwight: [shouting] Stick insect!

Dwight: At first I drove myself crazy thinking about the things I should have done differently. I never should have played that joke on Erin. I never should have hollowed out this damn pumpkin in the first place. Then I realized that I was being silly. I mean the pumpkin should rot off of my head in a month or two. Right?

Dwight: Dwight Schrute!
Angela: Dwight!

Jim: [watching the stripper arrive in her car] Have you ever seen a stripper before?
Dwight: Yes. Jennifer Garner portrayed one on "Alias." It was one of her many aliases.
Jim: Yeah, me neither.
Elizabeth the Stripper: [walks over to them] Hey. I'm Elizabeth. I'm the dancer that was requested.
Dwight: Okay. I specifically ordered a stripper.
Elizabeth the Stripper: I'm the stripper.
Dwight: Oh, okay. Good. Well, in the future, please identify yourself as such. Okay.
Jim: [reads a text he just got from Michael on his phone] Oh, God.
Dwight: [reads the text aloud] "Is she hot?"
[looks at her]
Dwight: Text back, "Kind of."

Karen: Hey, did you guys see this memo that Dwight sent out? "Women will be sent home if they wear makeup or heels exceeding one-quarter inch. Females are not allowed to speak to strangers unless given written authorization by Dwight Schrute." This is ridiculous.
Dwight: Attention. I am removing all bananas from the kitchen.
Karen: Dwight, this memo that you distributed is insulting.
Dwight: Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Jim: Hey, you know what, Dwight? Maybe we should get our photo ID taken together.
Dwight: That doesn't make any sense.
Jim: Well, it saves time, you know. 'Cause we could just meet in the parking lot every morning, walk in together. Perfect.
The: Smile.
Dwight: No.
[He stares right at camera as photographer takes the picture. To film crew]
Dwight: I never smile if I can help it. Showing one's teeth is a submission signal in primates. When someone smiles at me, all I see is a chimpanzee begging for its life.
Jim: This came out really well. There you go.
Dwight: This is humongous. I am not a security threat. And my middle name is Kurt, not Fart.
Jim: What did I write?
[Dwight walks away while Jim smiles at camera]

Dwight: [deleted scene] Oh, me? Just one of the gang. Sitting in the back, doodling, not playing attention. Bam! Pow! Surprise! Got you!
[Note pad reads, "Creed -Shifty eyes / Ryan - Dilated pupils / Kelly - Hyperactive"]
Dwight: There's a Volunteer Sheriff's Deputy in your midst, and he is taking names.

Dwight: Someone forged medical information, and that is a felony.
Jim: Okay. Whoa, all right, 'cause that's a pretty intense accusation. How do you know that they're fake?
Dwight: [reading from a sheet] Uh, "Leprosy. Flesh-eating bacteria. Hot-dog fingers. Government-created killer nanorobot infection."

Michael: I have a special assignment for you.
Dwight: Who's the target?
Michael: A sensitive e-mail has been released into the office. It contains a file. A picture. The filename is Jamaica Jan Sun Princess.
Dwight: What's it of?
Michael: Not important.
Dwight: Unless you're willing to tell me everything, I cannot accept this assignment.
Michael: Okay, then forget it.
Dwight: Okay, I accept it.

Michael: Guys! Beef, it's what's for dinner. Who wants some man meat?
Dwight: I do! I want some man meat!
Jim: Michael, Dwight would like your man meat.

Samuel L. Chang: Master Scarn. Master Scarn!
Michael: Let me dream.
[Samuel uses cymbals to wake Scarn up]
Michael: I'm up.
Samuel L. Chang: It's the President. He needs you for a mission.
Michael: Tell him I'm retired.
Samuel L. Chang: It's Goldenface. The man who killed...
Michael: Don't say her name! Goldenface. This makes it personal.

Dwight: I don't have $30,000 lying around. I have it buried very deeply, and I don't want to dig past a certain someone to get it.

[first lines]
[No one is talking in the office, Jim holds up sign that reads "We're on the longest silent streak in office history! Nobody has said anything in... 14 min!", Dwight hangs up on a phone call rather than speak, Andy sees a raccoon eating a hamburger and tries to describe it using charades, Kevin opens a candy bar and takes a bite]
Kevin: Oh yeah!
[Everyone says "Aww!"]
Dwight: Knew it! I knew it! Soon as I heard that wrapper.
Oscar: You really have to say "oh yeah" every time you eat a candy bar?
Kevin: I can't help it, Oscar. It's just really good.
[takes another bite]
Kevin: Oh yeah!
Jim: All right, not bad at all. I think we can beat 20 minutes though so let's try again. Get it all out now if you have to.
Andy: It was a raccoon! Eating a hamburger like a person!
Dwight: You need to stop banging your pen on your desk, or it's going to drive me insane.
Jim: Okay, done.
Erin: [shows bloody hand] Does anyone have a first aid kit?
Darryl: Check out this song I wrote: I'ma love you downstairs tonight...
[overlapping chatter]
Jim: Alright, here we go! Everybody get ready in three, two, good luck, one...

Dwight: Through concentration, I can raise and lower my cholesterol at will.
Pam: Why would you want to raise your cholesterol?
Dwight: So I can lower it.

Dwight: [unfolds a letter from his jacket and reads from it] I state my regret.
Jim: You couldn't have memorized that?

Dwight: Well, Mr Ball, it's been a pleasure. Now give my regards to Hell! Dah!

- So let's make this the best dundies ever.
- Best dundies ever.
- Welcome to the eighth annual dundies awards.
Dwight: Before we get started, a few announcements.
- Keep your acceptance speeches short.
- I have wrap-it-up music and I am not afraid to use it, Devon.

Michael: [to the camera while he's making a film for his future son] And remember, no matter what, I will always love you.
Dwight: What if he's a murderer?
Michael: He's not going to be a murderer.
Dwight: Maybe that's how you die?

President: Scarn, you're right on time.
Michael: What's the situation, President Jackson?
President: It's your old enemy, Goldenface. As you're Goldenface tried to blow up the NFL All-Star game, the baseball All-Star game and the NBA All-Star game. You stopped him every time. Then, you took one day off to run a 20k with your friend Robin Williams.
Michael: One day off.
President: That was the day of the WNBA All-Star game. We all know what happened then.
Michael: My wife was in that game.
President: Now, he's after the NHL All-Star game. He's hidden a bomb somewhere in the stadium. Scarn, this one's personal for me. I own the stadium. I can't see it blown up. It's my retirement plan.
Samuel L. Chang: We have to search the stadium.
President: Not so fast. Goldenface has taken all of the concession stand workers hostage. We go in, he kills the hostages.
Samuel L. Chang: Why not just cancel the game?
President: Cost them too much money to cancel the game.
Michael: Money. It's always about money, isn't it? If I ever own a business, I'm not gonna care about money.
President: Scarn, will you find these hostages and save the game?
Michael: No. I don't think it's important enough. Just out of curiosity, what threat level is this?
President: I can't sugarcoat this. We're at Threat Level... Midnight!
Michael: Heads, I do it. Tails, I don't. Best out of seven. Heads, tails. Heads, tails. Heads, tails.
[he does a final coin toss where heads won]
Michael: Looks like there's gonna be a cleanup on aisle 5.

Dwight: Oh! Here's one. A string quartet playing classical music.
Michael: You know, that's good, but that's not classy. I need something classy, like the opening of a car dealership.
Jim: That's it. Or Mr. Peanut.
Michael: Yes.
Dwight: Mr. Peanut is not classy.
Michael: He is.
Dwight: He is a regular peanut. He just happens to have a cane, a monocle and a top hat.
Michael: That's what makes him classy.

Dwight: Now that I own the building, I'm looking for new sources of revenue. And a daycare center... Ha ha ha
[laughing maniacally]
Dwight: Well I guess it's not an evil idea. It's just a regular idea. But there is no good laugh for a regular idea.

Dwight: Don't worry, Michael. I'm taking us to shore.
Michael: It's a fake wheel, dummy.

Dwight: Every fall growing up, my Uncle Eldred used to build a maze out of hay bales for us kids to play in. We called it Hay Place. Eldred called it Hay World, eventually lawyers were brought in. That's all behind us. Hay Place lives on!

Andy: And then I will say something positive like "Kudos," or "Job well done."
Jim: Or, "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah!"
Andy: I can't tell if he's mocking me.
Dwight: Just ignore him.
Andy: I can't do that. It's really hard for me to let things go.
Jim: I was mocking.
Andy: Thank you.
Dwight: I just feel like we need something more to acknowledge when I make a sale.
Andy: Yes! Like a chime or a bell.
Jim: Or a gong.

Dwight: [to camera crew] Can't a guy just buy some bagels for his friends, so they'll owe him a favor which he can use to get someone fired who stole a co-manager position from him anymore? Jeez, when did everyone get so cynical?

- Dwight from sales was one of the most honorable and efficient employees this company has ever had.
Dwight: One of my life goals was to die right here in my desk chair.
- And today, that dream was shattered.
- Hey, man.

Dwight: Is everything satisfactory with your stay?
Jim: Yeah.
Dwight: All right.
Jim: I just thought I heard crying or moaning or something in here.
Dwight: Oh, well, I'll look into that in the morning. Thank you for bringing that to the attention of the staff.
Jim: Good night, Dwight.

Dwight: Reject a woman, and she will never let it go. One of the many defects of their kind. Also weak arms.

Dwight: No, I would never leave you for dead. You would never escape.
Michael: Well, yes I would. And I would survive.
Dwight: I would make sure that you were dead. Believe me.
Michael: No...
Dwight: Then I would remove your teeth and cut off your fingertips so you could not be identified.
Michael: You...
Dwight: And they would call me the Overkill Killer.
Michael: You are as creepy as a real serial killer. For real.

Michael: [deleted scene] Okay, well, I made up some fliers for everybody to take on your way out, in case you're ever tempted. So there you go. And, Dwight, you know, I'm very busy today. It wasn't even planning on going to the bathroom, so I don't even know if anything will come out.
Dwight: Just drink a lot of water.
Michael: Well...
Dwight: You have to relax your muscles around the bladder.
Michael: I don't... Let's just not talk about it, okay?

Dwight: [Imitating Gabe] I have to go back to the zoo to the stick insect exhibit.

Dwight: Michael... I can't believe you came.
Michael: [choking up] That's what she said.

Dwight: Deangelo, tell your whore to leave me alone!

Dwight: I need to make Nellie see me as a leader today. First impressions get locked in forever. When I first met Pam, she said something that slightly rubbed me the wrong way. Since then I've loved working with Pam, and she's frankly wonderful, but I hate her.

Dwight: I am going to be your new boss.
Dwight: It is my greatest dream come true. Welcome to the Hotel Hell. Check-in time is now. Checkout time is never.
Jim: Does my room have cable?
Dwight: No. And the sheets are made of fire.
Jim: Can I change rooms?
Dwight: Sorry, we're all booked up. Hell convention in town.
Jim: Can I have a late checkout?
Dwight: I'll have to talk to the manager.
Jim: You're not the manager? Even in your own fantasy?
Dwight: I'm the owner. The co-owner. With Satan!
Jim: Okay. Just so I understand it, in your wildest fantasy, you are in Hell, and you are co-running a bed-and-breakfast with the Devil.
Dwight: Yeah, but I haven't told you my salary yet.
Jim: Go.
Dwight: $80,000 a year.

Dwight: Damn it! Jim! He put my stuff in Jell-O again.
[Points to Michael]
Dwight: You can be a witness. Can you reprimand him, please?
Jim: [eating Jell-O] How do you know it was me?

- Yes!
Andy: Yeah!
Oscar: Are you okay?
Michael: Very nicely done.
Oscar: Are you okay, Stanley?
- Excuse me.
Dwight: Wow.
- All right, papa bear.

[Deleted scene. Jordan reads back to Dwight the list on what everyone is "secretly up to," which Jim secretly wrote]
Jordan: Toby got bitten by a spider, but he seems stronger than ever.
Dwight: Keep tabs on that.
Jordan: Phyllis was selling a bunch of beet futures.
Dwight: Did she say why?
Jordan: No. Oscar was on some geological Web site, checking into the seismic pressure under the building, which had increased to 39.5.
Dwight: 39.5?
[Dwight stands up]
Jordan: Is that a problem?
Dwight: Oh, gee, I don't know, is a mega-volcano a problem? God, this day!

Dwight: Oh, hey, Jim, I forgot to mention. Oftentimes, in Hollywood portrayals of bachelor parties, there are accidental murders. That won't be necessary tonight.
Clark: Great, now we got three hours to fill.

Dwight: [thinking Oscar has once been a potential drug mule] Have you ever pooped a balloon?
Oscar: Okay, I'm done with this.
[Oscar exits]
Dwight: [to the camera] He sure left in a hurry.

Andy: Dwight, I'm a little concerned about some of these directions to Schrute Farms.
Dwight: Yeah, do tell.
Andy: I mean like, '156 paces from the light red mailbox, make a left.'
Dwight: Mmhmm.
Andy: 'Walk until you hear the beehive.'
Dwight: How could it be more clear?
Angela: I think Andy makes an excellent point.
Dwight: Okay.
Angela: But my biggest concern is that there's only one bathroom.
Dwight: We'll dig a trench. As long as it's downhill from the well, we should be fine.
Angela: Nana Mimi cannot squat over some trench.
Dwight: We're gonna put out stumps, come on.
Andy: Let's three-way this little issue and come to a solution by the time we get to Schrute Farms. How's that for a plan?

Dwight: Protein powder, huh? You cut it with water? Why don't you just take estrogen?

Jo: Do you always stay seated when a lady enters the room?
Dwight: I am treating you the same as a man, for whom I would also not stand. Unless it was the President, or Judge Judy.
Jo: I like that.

Dwight: [chanting] Utica! Utica! Utica!

Pam: Oh my God, you guys, look. It's Recyclops.
Dwight: Recyclops destroys!
[starts tearing through the office]
Stanley: Oh, is today Recyclops Day?
Dwight: Yes.
Stanley: I thought you were killed by Polluticorn.
Dwight: Polluticorn wishes.
[starts spraying the office with something]
Andy: That's aerosol spray. It's terrible for the environment.
Dwight: Humans are terrible for the environment.

Dwight: My name is J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J-Jim Halpert and I will fax it in to you - under you. I'll fax it under you. Oh excuse me, I just p-p-p-p-pissed my pants.

[Whispering] Thanks.
- I still don't understand why you wanted me to say that.
Dwight: Shut up.
- I got her.
- Not cool, Dwight.
Jim: Not cool, man.

Dwight: [thinking he's steering the "Booze Cruise" boat] I was the youngest pilot in Pan Am history. When I was four, the pilot let me ride in the cockpit and fly the plane with him. And I was four and I was great. And I would have landed it, but my dad wanted us to go back to our seats.

Dwight: [deleted scene] I am a salesman, okay? And I don't think we should be doing this during prime sales hours. If you can prove to me that diversity is going to help my sales, I'll go elephant running with James Earl Jones. I really will, but not on spec.

Dwight: [about Game of Thrones] It has a lot of nudity, which I fast-forward through to get to the chopped-off heads.

Dwight: Operation Phoenix is a go.

Dwight: I am not hysterical.
- I am explaining...
- Yes!
- Oh, my god. You ass.
- There's nothing better than a beautiful day at the beach, filled with sun, surf and diligent note-taking.
Michael: Pam, you're missing things!

Andy: Saw your dork-mobile in the parking lot. What does it get, like, four miles to the gallon?
Dwight: Uh, try double that. Classic Trans Am, vintage American muscle. Please.
Andy: Yeah, my Xterra is pretty sweet. Luxurious yet rugged. Leave it to the Japanese.
Dwight: Xterra's not even a real word.
Andy: Actually, it is. It's Latin for "earth."
Dwight: Oh, so you drive an X-earth? Yeah, that makes sense. I'd rather drive a classic Trans Am than an X-earth.
Andy: Yeah, I bet you would. Oh, by the way, 1985 called. It wants its car back.
Dwight: Well, I hope 1985 has a time machine, 'cause I drive an '87.
Andy: Oh, speaking of time machines? I just got back from the future, and I went to your funeral, and guess what? Nobody came.
Dwight: Speaking of funerals, why don't you go ahead and go die?
Andy: That was a really well-constructed sentence. You should be an English professor at Cor-Not University.
Dwight: Idiot!
Andy: If I were an idiot, I'd be driving a Trans Am.
Dwight: If you were driving a Trans Am, you would be the smartest idiot in the whole world.
Andy: [coughing] Idiot!
Dwight: [coughing] You're the idiot.
Andy: [coughing] Nice comeback.
Dwight: [coughing] I was making fun of your comeback. That's why it worked.

Dwight: [deleted scene] The scary thing is, it could have been any one of these people. They all had a motive. To get high.

Michael: How did we do it?
Dwight: I don't know. I have no idea.

Dwight: Did I truck three hundred bales of hay to a parking lot to rectify some childhood disappointment? Yes.

Darryl: [working out at Dwight's new gym] Dude, I'm gonna be here all week, right? Five days a week. I figure I'll start slow.
Dwight: Is that the same philosophy you apply to buffalo wings? I want you to bring that same buffalo wing passion to this gym! I'm gonna make you look like LeBron James!
Darryl: It's LeJon Brames.
Dwight: That's what I said.

Nellie: God. We owned a flat together. Then one morning, just like that, he was gone. He ran off with the waitress at our favourite restaurant.
Dwight: That's awful. What kind of restaurant?

[in a confessional after Dwight believes Jim was bitten by the bat]
Dwight: If a vampire bat was in the U.S., it would make sense for it to come to a "Sylvania," like Pennsylvania. Now, that doesn't mean Jim is going to become a vampire. Only that he carries the vampiric germ.

[Phyllis, dressed as Santa Claus, is handing out the Secret Santa gifts while Michael, dressed as Jesus, sits sullenly in a chair heckling her with a karaoke machine]
Phyllis: [to Dwight] This just arrived from the Dunder Mifflin North Pole branch.
Dwight: We don't have a North Pole branch, idiot.
[he jumps up and snatches the parcel out of her hands]
Michael: [sarcastic and deadpan] Uh-oh, what's Dwight gonna get? What is it?
Dwight: [opens the parcel to reveal another assembly piece for his gift] YES!
Michael: Oh yes, it's space garbage. Dwight's gonna be able to build himself a friend.
Michael: Deck the halls with crappy gifts...
Phyllis: [moves to Stanley] And Stanley, ho ho ho! You've been very good this year.
[she hands him a small box]
Stanley: I have.
[he takes the box and opens it]
Michael: Yeah, except for cheating on your wife. Adultery's a sin, look it up in the Bible, people. What'd he get?
Kevin: He got scented candles.
Michael: Oh, well that's appropriate. Lot of fire where you're going, better get used to it. You're going to H-E-L-L double hockeysticks. Going to hell, Stanley.
Angela: Amen!
Phyllis: [moves to Angela and hands her a wrapped parcel] And this brings us to you, little one.
Michael: I can't see from here, people. Somebody shout it out. Don't make me get up.
Angela: [opens the parcel] It's fabric. I really wanted this.
Michael: That's fantastic. You can make another dress that goes past your feet.
Angela: Andy, was this you?
Phyllis: It's a secret. It was a secret.
Michael: No, Andy had... Erin.
Andy: [uncomfortable] That...
Pam: Michael!
Phyllis: You...
[sighs exasperatedly]
Michael: [sarcastically] What, was I not supposed to say...
[Jim shuts off the karaoke machine, cutting Michael off]
Michael: Wha... Turn it back on.
Jim: No.
[Michael drops the microphone, gets out of his chair and petulantly stalks into his office, slamming the door behind him]

Dwight: In the Schrute family, the youngest child always raises the others. I've been raising children since I was a baby.

Dwight: Who's gonna tell on us? Gabe?
Gabe: That'd be hilarious. "Joe, they're creating a hostile working environment! Stop them!"

Nellie: Dwight, you are the Vice President.
Dwight: Ha ha ha ha! Yeah! Okay! Come on! Right on! Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam! Boom!

Michael: [turns on black light in his hotel room] Now would you do me the pleasure of hitting the lights, sir?
Michael: [Dwight turns off lights and they see stains all over bed] Whoa. What are all those stains?
Dwight: Blood, urine, or semen.
Michael: Oh, God, I hope it's urine.

Dwight: I don't want to alarm people, but there is a distinct chance that we're all about to be killed.

Dwight: Although, publicly, I am going to retain the assistant regional manager position.
Pam: You will be your own assistant.
Dwight: Correct. I need someone I can trust.

Dwight: I can make more sales than a computer. In fact, I challenge that website to make more sales than me today.
Angela: Waste of time.
Michael: What's that, pipsqueak?
Angela: Waste of time. The website's going to win.
Dwight: You believe a computer can beat me?
Angela: I don't care, but yes.
Dwight: Well, I will prove you wrong.
Angela: I don't care, and you won't.
Dwight: You'll see.
Angela: I won't be watching, and I won't.

Michael: [after bouncing a watermelon onto a car by accident] Whoa, whoa, whoa! Deactivate the car alarm, clean up the mess.
Dwight: Okay.
Michael: Find out whose car that is. If it's Stanley's, call the offices of James P. Albini, see if he handles hate crimes.

Michael: [sees office in disarray] Oh my god, what happened?
Jim: We were robbed last night.
Dwight: Bravo, Watson. Looks like a classic seven-man job. Okay, security tapes were stolen. Motives: financial, or possibly vintage HP computer collectors. Hank down at security had clocked out... and that's all we have.

Dwight: All right, who did this? I'm not mad, I just want to know who did it so I can punish them.
Jim: What are you talking about?
Dwight: Uh, someone, uh, forged medical information, and that is a felony.
Jim: Okay, whoa, all right, 'cause that's a pretty intense accusation. How do you know that they're fake?
Dwight: Uh, leprosy? Flesh-eating bacteria? Hot dog fingers. Government created killer nano robot infection.
[to Jim]
Dwight: You did this, didn't you?
Jim: Absolutely not.
Dwight: Yes, you did.
Jim: No, I didn't.
Dwight: I know it was you. Okay, fine, you know what? I'm going to have to interview each and every one of you until the perpetrator makes him or herself known. And until that time, there will be no health care coverage for anyone!
[Dwight slams door to his workspace]
Jim: [to Pam] Killer nano robots?
Pam: It's an epidemic.

Angela: I heard a joke today.
Dwight: [awkward laughter] Oh, that's funny.
Angela: Yes, it was.

Dwight: [reading Michael's recommendation letter] "To whom it may concern." Good, real personal. Thanks Michael. "The dictionary defines superlative as: of the highest kind, quality, or order, surpassing all else, or others. Supreme." That's great. If I wanted the dictionary definition, I'd buy a dictionary. "I define it as Dwight Schrute. As a sales executive, as a leader, as a man, and as a friend, he is of the highest kind, quality, and order. Supreme." Lots more like that, really repetitive. What's this? "Two forty five, behind the building. Paintball." Oooh yeah.

Dwight: Her chart doesn't indicate that she had a hysterectomy. But she did, or at least she got time off for one.
Intern: Ah. So that is where her uterus went.

Dwight: Three squeezes and I would drain you!

[Jim, Michael and Dwight are in the car driving to Utica, Jim and Michael hear a strange noise]
Michael: What is that?
[looks around]
Michael: Dwight, are you peeing?
Dwight: I'm peeing in this empty can.
Jim: Oh, my God.
Michael: Oh, come on, man. That is disgusting, Dwight!
Dwight: You said we couldn't make any more stops. I really had to go.
Michael: Oh, God!
Jim: Michael, watch the road!
Dwight: Hey, you're making me spray!
Michael: I'm going to kill you, man!
Jim: Michael, Michael, pull over!
Michael: That is just so disgusting.
Dwight: I think I cut my penis on the lid.

Dwight: Hello. Where is it?
- They're testing it now.
- How long does it take to get the results?
- Seventy-two hours.
- You're going to wait here?
- Yes.

Dwight: I don't care what Jim says. That is not the real Ben Franklin. I'm 99% sure.

Dwight: Hold it in your mouth if you can't swallow.

Oscar: Don't you want to see the baby?
Dwight: Psh! Why? I know what Angela and the senator look like. I can mash that up in my head right now.

Meredith: She could be your soul mate.
Dwight: Not likely. With three billion women on the planet, most of them live in Asia, so the numbers just don't add up.

Angela: What is it?
Dwight: It's my Aunt Shirley. She's on her last legs.
Angela: Dwight, that's awful.
Dwight: You have no idea. I mean her hair, her clothes, its all falling off in great, big clumps. And we need someone to go out there and clean her up. We had a nurse, but she quit, because she was "poisoned" by Aunt Shirley.
Angela: What do you mean by poisoned?
Dwight: Probably nothing. Or Strychnine. Or Lemonade and Strychnine, which is actually what it was.

[Dwight walks into the kitchen as Jim puts up a paper that says "Join The Fist" with a picture of a clenched fist]
Dwight: Hey, hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing? What's this? What's The Fist?
Jim: It's just a social club. Like the French Revolution or The Black Panthers or communism. It's just a club. Guys talking.
Dwight: You expect me to believe that you're starting a rebellion?
Jim: Nope, social club. God, I hate when everybody calls us a rebellion.
[Darryl walks into the kitchen. Jim puts his fist up and Darryl does it back]
Dwight: Okay, you know what? I would love to join The Fist.
Jim: And we would love to have you, but not today. Unfortunately, it's a bad day, what with Operation Overthrow and everything.

Michael: I would like your undivided attention please.
Dwight: You couldn't handle my undivided attention.

Dwight: "A real man makes his own luck." Billy Zane, "Titanic."

Dwight: With the electricity we're using to keep Meredith alive, we could power a small fan for two days.

GPS: Make a right turn.
[Michael starts to turn right]
Dwight: Wait, wait, no no no, it means "bear right." Up there.
Michael: No, it said right. It said take a right.
Dwight: No, no. Look, it means go up to the right -- bear right -- over the bridge, and hook up with 307.
GPS: Make a right turn.
Michael: Maybe it's a shortcut, Dwight. It said go to the right.
[he turns right]
Dwight: It can't mean that, there's a lake there!
GPS: Proceed straight.
Michael: I think it knows where it is going.
Dwight: This is the lake! THIS IS THE LAKE!
Michael: The machine knows! Stop yelling at me! Stop yelling!
[It's too late. Michael drives right into the lake]
Dwight: Remain calm, I have trained for this!
[he unbuckles his seat belt]
Dwight: Okay. Exit the window! Here we go!
[Dwight and Michael climb out the windows]
GPS: Make a u-turn, if possible.

Samuel L. Chang: We've searched the whole building, Goldenface. Where is the bomb?
Goldenface: Hmm?
Samuel L. Chang: We've searched the whole building, Goldenface. Where is the bomb?
Goldenface: Hmm?
Samuel L. Chang: We've searched the... Okay.
Michael: He said we've searched the whole building, Goldenface. Now, where is the bomb?
Goldenface: So you searched the whole stadium, hmm? Well, you didn't think to look in the puck!
[he throws the puck to Scarn]
Michael: The bomb is in the puck? Well, then, why are you telling me this?
Goldenface: Because I'm going to kill you. Unless you make a deal. I'll release these hostages and defuse that bomb. All you have to do... is forgive me for murdering your wife.

Dwight: I saw "Wedding Crashers" accidentally. I bought a ticket for "Grizzly Man" and went into the wrong theater. After an hour, I figured I was in the wrong theater, but I kept waiting. Because that's the thing about bear attacks, they come when you least expect it.

Dwight: Can I trust Jim? I don't know. Do I have a choice? No, frankly, I don't. Will I trust Jim? Yes. Should I trust Jim? You tell me.

Jim: You are not going to believe this.
Dwight: What? I believe it.
Jim: Well, tensions were high in the kitchen.
Dwight: I could tell from the body language.
Jim: [in the kitchen] That looks good. What is it? Turkey?
Kevin: Italian.
Jim: Oh, Italian. Nice. Wow! You got the works there. Red onion. Provolone...
Kevin: Yeah.
[back outside]
Jim: Toby and Kevin, they're trying to get Angela kicked off.
Dwight: Good. Let 'em. That's fine. It helps our cause.
Jim: Well, I don't know, because if Kevin's in Accounting and Toby's in Human Resources and they're talking...
Dwight: They're forming an alliance.
Toby: [back in kitchen] I love their sandwiches.
Jim: I love their sandwiches too.
Kevin: Their bread's really good.
Jim: Their bread is very good.
Dwight: [back outside] Damn it. God. Gah!
[kicks car and car alarm sounds]
Jim: Okay, listen. We need to assume that everyone in the office is forming an alliance and is therefore trying to get us kicked off.
Dwight: God damn it! Why us?
Jim: Because we're strong, Dwight. Because we're strong!

Dwight: [answering phone] Dunder Mifflin. Dwight Schrute. Please hold.
[he transfers the phone, and begins looking around in a file on his desk, then resumes his conversation]
Dwight: Schrute Farms, Guten Tag! How can I help you? Yes, we have availability on those nights. How many in your party? Oh, no. I'm sorry. No king beds. No queen either. Well, we make our own mattresses that don't conform to the traditional sizes.
[Jim, who has been staring confusedly at Dwight this whole time, hangs up his own phone]
Dwight: Closest would be twin. Thank you so much for calling. Call back again. Auf Wiedersehen.
[hangs up]
Jim: Hey, Dwight.
Dwight: None of your business, Jim.
Jim: You running a bed and breakfast?
Dwight: It is not a B&B.
Dwight: [later, to the camera] Agrotourism is a lot more than a bed and breakfast. It consists of tourists coming to a farm, showing them around, giving them a bed, giving them breakfast.
Jim: Does the Department of Health know about this?
Dwight: I am not telling you anything.
[to the camera]
Dwight: Permits are pending.
[his phone rings]
Dwight: Dwight Schrute, Dunder Mifflin.
Pam: Hello. I'm looking for a room.
Dwight: Okay. This is a misuse of company phones.
Pam: It says here you cater to the elderly.
Dwight: Where did you read that?
Pam: Trip Advisor.
Dwight: [to camera] Trip Advisor is the lifeblood of the agrotourism industry. A couple of bad reviews there, you may as well close up shop. That's what took down the Stalk Inn, one of the cutest little asparagus farms you'll ever see.

Jim: I just realized that this is Pam's and my first night away together. I used to play it over in my head, and it was just a little bit different. Maybe a nice hotel, or a romantic dinner, wine, but wine that wasn't made out of beets. Didn't think Dwight would be involved at all. And I always imagined less manure. I mean, some manure, just less.
Dwight: This is beet food. Mose, what are you doing? No, Mose. Put the manure down. Put it down! Do not throw it! Do not... Ow!

Kelly: Dwight, I would like tomorrow off so that I can go on my American Idol audition.
Dwight: American Idol, what? No.
Kelly: Okay, I guess I can just not go. Do you guys wanna hear my solo?
Dwight: No.
Kelly: [singing] Why did my temporary boss go on a shooting spree?
Dwight: Okay, fine, you can go on your singing audition.

Dwight: I come from a long line of fighters. My maternal grandfather was the toughest guy I ever knew. World War II veteran, killed 20 men, then spent the rest of the war in an Allied prison camp. My father battled blood pressure and obesity all his life. Different kind of fight.

Jim: You playing that game again?
Dwight: Second Life is not a game. It is a multi-user virtual environment. It does have points or scores. It doesn't have winners or losers.
Jim: Oh, it has losers.

[as Phyllis is lying on the floor from her back]
Dwight: Hey, hey, hey, hey. I got your text. Who's Phillip?
Michael: No, no, no.
Dwight: [to Phyllis] Who tipped you over? Was it Phillip?

Dwight: ID badges are long overdue. Security in this office park is a joke. Last year, I came to work with my spud gun in a duffel bag. I sat at my desk all day, with a rifle that shoots potatoes at 60 pounds per square inch. Can you imagine if I was deranged?

Dwight: Gabe, I always wondered what it is you did around here. Now I found out. You're the bagel guy.
Gabe: Yeah, but not just bagels. All unwanted problems. Question, what's the most important appliance in your house?
Dwight: Meat grinder.
Gabe: [Buzzer sound] Too slow. It's the toilet. And, I am the toilet of this office. I flush away annoying problems so others can keep their hands clean, and, just like a toilet, I am essential.
Dwight: You know, Gabe? You could have gone with garbage disposal, incinerator, or eraser, and instead, you chose toilet. God bless you. You're an American classic.

Dwight: [about Michael jumping off the roof onto a bouncy castle] When you land, try and land like an eight-year-old. These bouncy castles are not designed for adults.

Dwight: Voodoo Mama Juju, explain your dalliance with the dark arts.
Angela: It's not my fault. I was exposed to "Harry Potter."
Dwight: I know you did it!
Dwight: [to the camera crew] I know she didn't do it. It's never the person you most suspect. It's also never the person you least suspect, since anyone with half a brain would suspect them the most. Therefore, I know the killer to be Phyllis, a.k.a. Beatrix Bourbon, the person I most medium suspect.

Dwight: I am not a bad person. When I left Staples, I took some of their leads with me, but I never intended to use to them. What did I intend to do with them? Who knows? Maybe keep them as a souvenir, maybe use them.

Dwight: Stamford is closed! Michael, we're not closed. Stamford is closed! Stamford is closed!
Michael: We did it?
Dwight: We did it!
Michael: We did it!

- Wireless will be available in 2013.
- You can play anything from Chuck to cars 2.
- With the pyramid, you have the connection to everything.
- In time and space.
Dwight: Psst!
- Sabre. It's time to come home.

Dwight: Stop it!
Jim: Stop what?
Dwight: You're talking about me in Morse code! Well, you know what? Joke's on you. Because, I know Morse code. Ha!
Jim: Yeah. That's what we are doing. In our very limited free time and with our very limited budget, we went and got a nanny and then went out and took a class on a very outmoded and very unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you... in front about you.
[Jim to the camera]
Jim: Yup. That's exactly what we did.

Dwight: You think you're excited? You should feel my nipples. Boing!

Dwight: Jo, can I speak to you for a second?
Jo: Or what? Are you gonna shoot me?

Dwight: You, in tight pants, *are* a salami to a black bear.

Dwight: All right, picture this. Snowy ash drizzles from the sky. A rabid pack of dogs surrounds you as the flame at the end of your stick dies out. There's only one hope for you: the door to my shelter. You pound. You beg. "Dwight, please let me in." But I ignore your cries and do not let you in. You want to know why?
Jim: Because of the sign that says, "No pounding, no begging."

Phyllis: Ow, my ankle!
Dwight: What happened?
Phyllis: I... twisted it.
Dwight: You weren't even moving!

Dwight: So you got the fax. So why didn't you add it to the résumé? What do you mean? Of course, martial arts training is relevant. Oh, excuse me, I know about a billion Asians that would beg to differ. Yeah, I get a little frustrated when I'm dealing with incompetence! Well, you know what? You can go to hell, too, and I will see you there burning. Fine. Oh, wait, so you'll let me know when you've made a decision?

Dwight: I am a beet farmer, i- good sir. I happen to have been working a very long day that day, when I came to your fine esta- you are s- I'm gonna m- okay. Listen. You can't treat thank you good morning sir!

Dwight: Monkey, this is possum. Do you copy?
Angela: Copy, possum. What's your 20?

- God, Angela, why is that always my responsibility?
Angela: What did you do to yourself?
Dwight: Never mind.
- Just... never mind.
- Angela: Well, it better work. Dwight: It'll work.
- Stop kissing me.
- It's not in the contract.

Angela: D, it's gonna be perfect! The only people that need to be there are you and me.
Dwight: Oh, and the old man to feed us the cheese that he's been fermenting since the day of my birth. You keep forgetting about him.
Angela: I don't... I don't know why.

Dwight: [In response to Jim's claims of childhood telekinesis] I don't believe you. Continue.

Dwight: [deleted scene] What are you doing?
Jim: Freecell.
Dwight: Solitaire is a one-player game. It can't have two players.
Jim: Well, I mean...
Dwight: What's your win rate?
Pam: Seventy-six percent. What's yours?
Dwight: You're not allowed to play two-player. You need to start over.
Pam: You're doing fine.

Aaron: [seeing Michael and Dwight soaking wet] What happened to you guys?
Michael: Give it back. The gift basket. Give it back.
Aaron: Oh, wait is this?
Dwight: It's real simple. If you don't appreciate what we do, then give us back our basket.
Aaron: Maybe you should leave.
Michael: Yeah, maybe we should. Maybe we should leave.
[to Dwight]
Michael: Come on, let's leave. But before we leave, my wet friend and I are gonna wait for our cabs on your nice couches!
[he sits on a couch, intentionally getting water all over it]
Dwight: [sarcastically] Could you call us a cab, please? I'm gonna...
[he squeezes his jacket sleeve, getting water all over the couch]
Dwight: Oh, sorry.
Michael: Look, my clothes are so wet.
Dwight: Nice leather.
[scraping his shoes on the couch]
Dwight: Oh, my shoes are so muddy.
Aaron: [puts the gift basket on the table] All right, here you go. Take it back!
Michael: It's been opened.
Aaron: Yeah, it was mine.
Michael: What's missing? The turtles... Where are the turtles? Where are the turtles?
Aaron: Come on, guys, get outta here!
Dwight: [to the office] Excuse me, I have an announcement to make. We seem to be missing a box of chocolate turtles with pecans, and we will not be leaving the premises until we obtain them. Hand. Over. The. Turtles. Now!

Michael: [Michael reveals that he knew about Dwight's meeting with Jan after Dwight badmouthed his Sebring] I know, Dwight, I know. I know, I know.
Dwight: You know what?
Michael: Jan told me about your little meeting.
Dwight: No.
Michael: I know what you did.
Dwight: [voice wavering as he thinks it's partially a result of his comments toward Michael's Sebring] You... The Sebring's cool...
Michael: I made the whole thing up, Dwight!
Dwight: It's cool, the Sebring's cool...
Michael: Oh, do you? Do you like it?
Dwight: ...And has a cassette and a CD.
[Dwight continues backing away from Michael scared]

Pam: Dwight listen to me. Businesswomen are just normal, nice, reasonable people. Who's a nice, reasonable person in your experience?
Dwight: I had a barber once who used to comb my hair gently.
Pam: Okay, so when you're selling to this woman, just imagine she's that nice, reasonable barber.
Dwight: Okay, I can do that.
Pam: Good. Baby steps.
Dwight: He used to fight dogs.
Pam: Like, he used to make dogs fight, or he actually fought dogs?
Dwight: Little of this, little of that.

Dwight: The Schrutes have a word for when everything in a man's life comes together perfectly. Perfectenschlag. Right now, I am in it. I finally get a chance to prove myself to corporate. I am assembling a competent team. I am likely a father. I am so deep inside of perfectenschlag right now. And, just to be clear, there is a second definition, "perfect pork anus", which I don't mean.

Michael: Well, I'm moving to Colorado to start my new life with Holly. Just up here getting used to the altitude.
Dwight: Michael?
Michael: Yes?
Dwight: I've got a treat for you.
Michael: Oh! Thank you. Like a butler.
Dwight: Colorado specialty: Rocky Mountain Oysters.
Michael: [Starts eating one] Wow, those do not taste like oysters.
Dwight: That's because they're not oysters! They're bull testicles! I cut them off fresh this morning! Ha!
Michael: [Spitting them out] Sick freak. What is wrong with you?

Dwight: There's still one thing we can do to get Toby fired.
Michael: What's that?
[Dwight closes the office door]
Dwight: Frame him for using drugs.
Michael: Frame him?
Dwight: Yeah. It's illegal, but, everything they do on "The Shield" is illegal.

Dwight: I pick up day laborers and tell them they'll get paid at six p.m. At five forty five, a certain INS agent by the name of Mose Schrute throws them in the back of a van, drops them off in the middle of Harrisburg, and tells them it's Canada.

Dwight: My perfect Valentine's day? I'm at home, three cell phones in front of me, fielding desperate calls from people who want to buy one of the fifty restaurant reservations I made over six months ago.

Dwight: Jim, come on! That's so juvenile! What the-
[opens drawer full of meatballs]
Stanley: You've been meatballed!
Dwight: Ugh.
Stanley: Are you ready for some meatball?
Dwight: Aw, man.
[Stanley laughs]
Dwight: This is not very clever, Jim.
Jim: I know.
Stanley: Look for your stapler!
Dwight: [Dwight finds stapler in giant meatball] Really Jim? Really? Very funny.

Dwight: Well, well, well, if it isn't Isabel. What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?
Isabel: A girl like me is why a guy like you comes to a place like this.

Dwight: Animals, machines, vast virtual armies. All of these things I have successfully managed. The only thing I haven't managed, is people. I saw in an ad on the Sabre website for an open manager position in their printers division. I spoke to Robert California about it, and he said for me to come by and see him sometime. So, like a Spanish conquistador, I have come to Florida to claim what is rightfully mine.

Dwight: Come in. Did you have another nightmare?
Jim: Hey, Dwight.
Dwight: Oh, Jim. I thought you were Mose.
Jim: Does Mose have nightmares?
Dwight: [ominously] Oh, yes. Ever since the storm.

Stanley: What's the haul?
Dwight: 32 meatballs.

Dwight: I'm with Esther now. She's younger than Angela, sturdier, more comfortable with the scent of a manured field. Let's be honest. When it came to manured fields, Angela was at best indifferent.

Isabel: [watching Dwight play Whack-a-Mole] You are amazing at this. How did you get so good.
Dwight: Whacking moles.

Documentary: [deleted scene, boom microphone drops into the camera shoot] Can you move it out? Can you move it? Is that all right? Can you make that work?
Dwight: That's fine.
Documentary: [new take] No, you don't even need... That's fine. We'll keep it...
Dwight: I'm sorry. It makes me nervous.
Documentary: Understood, but it is what we need to capture what you're saying as clearly as possible.
Dwight: I understand. It's in a blind spot because I'm trained in several martial arts and one of them, uh, includes, uh, an awareness that the masters bring, uh, of anything on all sides of you. It could be behind you or whatever. This is directly in a blind spot, so I'm trained to respond negatively to something right above my head.
[new take]
Dwight: This now I have an eye on. You see, it's on my periphery and if I needed to block it, attack it, stop it somehow.
[does a martial arts move with his hands]
Dwight: I could come right out. I mean, I know you're doing your job, but...
Documentary: [talking over Dwight] It's...
Dwight: I'm doing my job.

- I told her I don't wanna mess this up, right?
- There's a consensus.
- People are happy.
- Dwight schrute.
- Yes, I would.
Dwight: Thank you.
- Jordan, gather my things from my desk.

Dwight: Salesman is king. As the best salesman, I am king of kings. Oh, you say Jesus is king of kings? Well. What does that say to you about how I think of myself?

Dwight: Powerpoints are the peacock of the business world, all show no meat.

Dwight: Standing is proven to be healthier, increases productivity, and just looks cooler. Picture someone doing something heroic. Now was he sitting or standing? Not counting FDR.

Michael: All right, girls, break it up; you're being infiltrated. Cock in the henhouse.
Dwight: Cocks in the henhouse.
Michael: Don't say cocks.

Toby: I am supposed to collect eyewitness accounts. Who saw Dwight do this?
[everyone in the conference room raises their hand]
Dwight: Okay, really?
Toby: Would you consider this a terrorist incident?
Ryan: I felt terrorized.
Dwight: Come on.
Toby: Oh! There's a whole other terrorism booklet for that.
Dwight: I just really, really think that we should handle this internally.
Ryan: Dwight, why is it on us to protect you?
Dwight: Because you guys are my best friends. And I mean that. Managing you for this last week has been the greatest honor of my life. And if you ruin this, I will burn this office to the ground.
[everyone has a shocked expression]
Dwight: And I mean that figuratively, not literally. Because you guys are so, so important to me. I love you guys, but don't cross me, but you're the best.

Dwight: It was nothing personal. It's just that you were terrible at your job.
Kevin: You're just saying that to make me feel better.
Dwight: No, really. You were terrible at math, and organization, time management, personal hygiene, your internet searches were so filthy, we had to throw out your computer.
Kevin: Is that all it was?

Jim: [deleted scene] Um, what's going on here?
Pam: People treat us like the race on our forehead. And then we guess what race we are.
Jim: Ah, good. Good luck. Doing good.
[goes to the index cards and writes another race down]
Dwight: Oh, man, am I a woman?
Jim: Yes, yes.
Dwight: God!
Jim: How embarrassing is it? That's not fair. Here...
Dwight: It's not fair.
Jim: Try this.
[takes Dwight's 'Asian' race and switches it with the one he wrote]
Dwight: Thank you. Thank you very much.
Jim: Go get 'em.
Dwight: Good.
[clears throat]
Dwight: So, am I a hunter gather culture?
Pam: No.
Dwight: Do I live near a harbor or an ocean?
Pam: No.
Dwight: No, I'm an inland. Am I a mountainous?
Pam: No.
Dwight: Am I nomadic?
Pam: No.
Dwight: Okay, okay, okay, okay. I think I got this. Um, I am treated in a foreign way with a great deal of prejudice. Am I one of those tribes in Africa? The piggies, or whatever?
Pam: No.
Dwight: No. But I am, I am human, right?
[Pam hesitates, Dwight's new race is 'Dwight']
Dwight: I could be French.
[takes his 'Dwight' race off his forehead]
Dwight: Damn it, Jim! That's not funny, Jim!
Michael: Oh, okay. Here we go, breakthrough radar. What happened? What happened here?
Pam: It didn't have anything to do with race.
Michael: Okay, all right. Let's keep on track. Keep on point. Let's do it.

Dwight: I have been Michael's number two guy for about five years, and we make a great team. Why, we're like one of those classic, famous teams. He's like Mozart and I'm like Mozart's friend. No, I'm like Butch Cassidy, and Michael is like Mozart. You try and hurt Mozart, you're gonna get a bullet in your head, courtesy of Butch Cassidy.

Jim: At that moment, I was so happy. I mean, everything Dwight does annoys me.
Dwight: [next scene] Did you get your tickets?
Jim: To what?
Dwight: The gun show.
[lifts up his sleeve and kisses his arm]
Jim: [back to interview] And I spend hours thinking of ways to get back at him but only in ways that would get me arrested. And then here he comes and he says, "No, Jim, here's a way."

Dwight: What did I do? I did my job. I slashed benefits to the bone; I saved this company money. Was I too harsh? Maybe. I don't believe in coddling people. In the wild, there is no Health Care. In the wild, Health Care is: "Ow, I hurt my leg; I can't run; a lion eats me, and I'm dead". Well, I'm not dead. I'm the lion. You're dead.

Dwight: I didn't know that you were at a party on Saturday night.
Ryan: I go to a lot of parties.
Dwight: Okay, I'm gonna need to search your car. Give me your keys.
Ryan: I am not giving you my keys.
Dwight: Don't make me do this the hard way.
Ryan: What's the hard way?
Dwight: I go down to the police station on my lunch break. I tell a police officer, I know several, what I suspect you may have in your car. He requests a hearing from a judge and obtains a search warrant. Once he has said warrant, he will drive over here, and make you give him the keys to your car and you will have to obey him.
Ryan: Yeah, let's do it that way.

Dwight: I wonder if king sized sheets are called presidental sized in England. I really should have a tweeter account.

Dwight: Prison Mike, what's the very, very worst thing about prison?
Angela: [softly to Dwight] Don't encourage him, Dwight.
Michael: [as Prison Mike] The worst thing about prison was the... was the Dementors. They were flying all over the place and they were scary and then they'd come down and they'd suck the soul out of your body and it hurt!
Karen: Dementors, like in "Harry Potter"?
Michael: No, not "Harry Potter." There are no movies in prison.

Dwight: It's true. Yes.
Dwight: We all walk alone. Jim.
- Jim.
Dwight: Come on. Shall we?
- Jim.
- My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
- Take it away, Andy.

Dwight: The purse girl hits everything on my checklist: Creamy skin, straight teeth, curly hair, amazing breasts. Not for me, for my children. The Schrutes produce very thirsty babies.

Dwight: It appears we're one bathrobe short.
Michael: Take it from Toby.

- Roy has a connection.
- It's nicer than you think.
- You're inviting Jim? Of course, he's one of my closest friends.
Dwight: All right.
- You ready? Here we go.
- Wow. It's a little bit bigger than I remember.
Michael: Come on.
- We're down here in the front.

Dwight: Okay, let's get this started.
[stands up and loosens tie]
Michael: What are you doing?
Dwight: I am the bait.
[takes off his glasses]
Michael: For what?
Dwight: Men find me desirable.
Michael: No, no, no.
Dwight: It's a good day, too. I'm wearing my mustard shirt.
Michael: You're the bait for Toby? No. For one thing, he's not gay. And if somebody were to be bait, it would be Jim or Ryan or me.
Dwight: Men find me desirable.
Michael: Yes. Sure they do, Dwight.

Dwight: Maybe you're right. Esther is a 10, and the best I've ever done is Angela, who's a 9, and she rejected me.
Clark: A Scranton 9, but, you know, point taken. Hey, let's go out tonight and just score a couple of 4s, huh? I mean, there are no games with 4s.

Phyllis: [in her game character] "I overheard you asking the butler where the pistol was kept."
[Michael gasps]
Dwight: Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I'm the butler. What, you were listening in on that? Oh, you rich people, you think you can do whatever you want to the servant class!
Michael: No, no, no. Don't turn this into a political thing.
Dwight: I will poison your food.

Dwight: [about Angela's cat, Sprinkles] Well, you left the TV on... and your cat is dead.

- I'm trying everything.
- Try "big boobs" with a "."Z that's the password. We're in.
Dwight: All right. Wow.
Dwight: Yes.
- The important thing is this kept us secure, people.

Dwight: I really like Andy these days. He's pretend, and he does exactly as I tell him to. All that will change when real Andy comes back tomorrow.
[thinks for a moment]
Dwight: Unless he comes back as pretend Dwight. In which case, we're in for an epic, confusing showdown.

Pam: I finally feel ready. Athlead is growing.
Jim: Athleap.
Pam: And Jim can jump back in without skipping a beat. We'll come back to this, but I think it's time for us to officially...
Dwight: No, don't say it. You're both fired.
Jim: Dwight, come on. Don't end on a bad note.
Dwight: Don't be an idiot. It's for the severance. The best I can do is one month for every year you've been here. That's the max.
Pam: Thanks, Dwight.

Meredith: I'm the dead body and these are my brain chunks.
Dwight: Hey, shut up, you're dead.

Jim: Excuse me. How long is the wait for a table for two?
Dwight: I would never, ever serve you. Not in a million, billion years.
Pam: It's a nice tux.
Dwight: I know. It belonged to my grandfather. He was buried in it, so family heirloom.

Dwight: So, what weapon?
Andy: My bare hands.
Dwight: That is stupid. I will use a sword and I will cut off your bare hands.

- And I will give you the rest of the 10 at lunch.
- Hey.
Dwight: Michael and I have a very special connection.
- He's like Batman,
- I'm like Robin.
- He's like the lone ranger and I'm like Tonto.
- And it's not like there was the lone ranger and Tonto and bonto.

Dwight: Why tip someone for a job I'm capable of doing myself? I can deliver food, I can drive a taxi, I can and do cut my own hair. I did, however, tip my urologist. Because I am unable to pulverize my own kidney stones.

Michael: I'm Michael Scott and I am in charge of this place. How do I make you understand... I am like Superman. And the people who work here are like citizens of Gotham City.
Dwight: That's Batman.
Michael: Okay, I'm Aquaman. Where does he live, guys?
Jim: The ocean.
Michael: [muttering] I work with a bunch of nerds.

Dwight: I like the people I work with, generally, with four exceptions. But someone committed a crime, and I did not become a Lackawanna County volunteer sheriff's deputy to make friends. And by the way, I haven't.

Dwight: [ordering a stripper over the phone] Ruddy cheeks, thick calves, no tats, no moles. No tats. No, *tats*. Of course, I want...
Jim: [interrupts] Stop. That's disgusting.

Dwight: You know, my rectal electro-ejaculator is rated for bovine use only, but I could let you rent it.

Dwight: You know who the vandal is. Now I know a lot of these warehouse guys are your friends... but we've got chewing gum.
Nate: Gum's gotten mintier lately, have you noticed? Like, some of it is just too minty. It's like they're literally trying to hurt your mouth.
Pam: Tell us who defaced the mural!
Nate: [pointing out the window] He did it.
Pam: All right, you can go. Give him his gum.
Dwight: There's no gum. There never was any gum!
Nate: That's really rude.

Dwight: Win at all costs. Don't respect women. These are the tenets I was brought up with, and they have served me well. But my ancestors never worked in corporate America. They were farmers. And before that, hunters. And before that, time travelers. And before that, me again. At least, that's how the legend goes. The point is they never had to worry about how they got ahead. They just had to put food on the table and not alter the past.

Jim: [Dwight picks up pencil between his toes] Why?
Dwight: Twenty minutes a day, Jim, that's all it takes. Twenty minutes a day, all feet, no hands, and I'll have the pedi-dexterity of a chimp, and you'll be sitting there like an idiot.
[attempts to place pencil in pencil sharpener]
Dwight: Okay. Here we go. Ah, yes.
[accidentally kicks items from his desk onto Pam's]
Pam: Do you mind?
Dwight: I'm sorry Pam. Allow me to write you an apology letter.
Pam: You don't have to do that.
Dwight: [typing with his toes] D-E-A. Oop, backspace. A. Dear.
Jim: [whistling, places cup of coffee onto Dwight's desk] Ahh, Thank you hands. Nothing else in the universe can do what you do.
[Dwight lifts cup up with toes]
Jim: Oh, don't worry about it. Dwight, its okay. You were wrong.
Dwight: [spills hot coffee on himself] Uhh, aah!
Jim: Well, A for effort right?
[Dwight taps Jim's hand with his foot]

Dwight: Tap into your common mind and tell us what he would do next.
Holly: Look, I'm not playing. I'm gonna go look for him
Erin: Good. We don't need her.
Dwight: Right. I can do this on my own. I can think like Michael. All right... I'm deep below the ocean's surface in a submarine. A torpedo's coming right at me. No. Damn it, that's just my own imagination.

Dwight: When I was in the 6th grade, I was a finalist in our school spelling bee. It was me against Raj Patel. I misspelled, in front of the entire school, the word "failure."

Dwight: Michael appears to be gay, too. And yet he is my friend. I guess I do have a gay friend.

Kevin: [to Todd] Your life is so insane. You should write a book.
Todd: Since when did you learn how to read?
Kevin: [still smiling] I do know how to read, though.
Todd: Yeah. You know how to read a menu. This guy...
[Todd chuckles and leaves]
Kevin: [to Holly and Dwight] I... He's right. I mean, I could lose some weight.
Dwight: Kevin, in sumo culture, you'd be considered a promising up-and-comer.

Dwight: Maybe we should skip the ceremony and set up a college fund for Meredith's kid.
Michael: Have you met that kid? Not going to college.

[Michael is still on the phone asking for someone to pick him up for work]
Michael: Pam, could you come get me?
Pam: Uh, I have to stay here and answer the phone.
Michael: Ok, could someone come and get me please, Ryan?
Phyllis: Michael, you should stay home and rest.
Michael: There's no toilet paper here. Could Ryan... tell Ryan to bring toilet paper. Could you tell him that?
Kevin: Can you hop?
Michael: I tried hopping, Kevin, and I bumped my elbow against the wall and now my elbow has a "protruberance".
[long beat]
Michael: Nobody wants to come and pick me up?
[everyone stays silent as Dwight enters]
Dwight: What is going on? What is going on?
Pam: Michael, is, um, sick and he wants one of us to rescue him.
Michael: I'm not sick! I'm burned!
Dwight: I'm coming Michael!
Jim: Oh...
Dwight: [shouting at the speakerphone] I'm gonna save you!
Michael: Don't... is that Dwight? I do not want Dwight.
[Dwight's already halfway out of the office]
Dwight: Hold on Michael! I am coming! Wait there!
Pam: Michael, why don't you call your girlfriend?
Michael: [dryly] I don't have a girlfriend.
Jim: But you said that you went out with her this weekend.
Michael: [still dryly] It was all made up. Just someone come, ok? Anyone. Anyone but Dwight.
[all of a sudden, everyone hears a car crash coming from outside]
Jim: What was that...
Pam: What was that?
[Everyone rushes to Michael's window to see that Dwight has collided with the front gate with his car]
Jim: Oh!
Pam: Ohhhhhh!
Jim: He hit the pole! It's broken, right? He can't...
[Dwight stumbles out of the car in a stupor]
Pam: Oh, my gosh.
Jim: Oh, Dwight, Dwight.
[Dwight proceeds to puke all over his back windshield]
Jim: Ohhhhhh!
Jim: Oh my God!
Pam: Is he okay?
Jim: He's still driving...
[Dwight gets back in his car and drives away]
Jim: Dwight, you forgot your bumper!
Michael: [still on speakerphone] Hello?
Michael: Please don't send Dwight.

Dwight: [deleted scene] I'm not only hoping to find the culprit who committed this heinous crime, I am praying to find this heinous culprit. And I will pray to Thor himself, if that's what it takes.

Darryl: Dude, I'm gonna be here all week, right? Five days a week. I figure I'll start slow.
Dwight: Is that the same philosophy you apply to Buffalo wings?

Dwight: My girlfriend and I broke up recently, and I must say I am relieved. It gives me a chance to sow my wild oats. In the Schrute family, we have a tradition where when the male has sex with another woman, he is rewarded with a bag of wild oats left on his doorstep by his parents. You can use those oats to make oatmeal, bread, whatever you want. I don't care. They're your oats.

Dwight: [about their agreement] But not in your bed. It's lumpy.
Angela: Those lumps are cats, and those cats have names. And those names are Amber, Milky Way, Diane, and Lumpy.

Dwight: Philip, if you're hearing this memo, that can only mean one thing, I am dead. You are the rightful heir to Schrute Farms. Please, you must do one thing: Kill Mose before he kills you.

Jim: All right, well, enjoy the alumni game.
Dwight: Good, we have a deal?
Jim: Thanks, Janet.
Dwight: Thanks so much, Earl.
Jim: Wow, simultaneous sale.
Dwight: And they said it couldn't be done. Boom!
Jim: Screw 'em.
Andy: Lot going on, guys. What's happening?
Jim: Binghamton branch closed last night and their clients are up for grabs.
Andy: That was a fine branch. Things are really bad under Robert California, I guess. It's like a festival of poo.
Jim: Hey, hey, come on, language.
Dwight: Yeah, and we're not interested in your sour grapes, okay? Jim, tell him where he can stick his grapes.
Jim: In the fridge.
Dwight: No, Jim, the butt, in his butt.
Jim: Sorry, man, I can't focus on zingers. There's too many potential clients.
Stanley: You two better watch yourselves.
Phyllis: Yeah, the Syracuse branch can't be happy you're taking New York clients.
Robert: Shh... shh...
[vomits in trash can]
Jim: Robert?
Oscar: Why did Binghamton close?
Robert: Can everyone just, please... I had a one-man saturnalia last night, in celebration of the finalization of my divorce. I got into a case of Australian reds, and - how should I say this - Columbian whites. What - what is this about, uh, Binghamton?
Kevin: The branch closed. Forever.

Dwight: Rolf is my best friend. We met a shoe store. I heard him asking for a shoe that could increase his speed and not leave any tracks.

Dwight: [to the tune of "We Didn't Start The Fire"] Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, television, North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe! Ryan started the fire!

Dwight: You think I don't have anxiety? I have anxiety all the time. Every waking moment of my life is sheer torture. I have land disputes to settle, and idiot cousins to protect, and ne'er-do-well siblings to take care of. And I don't need some stupid pill to get me through all this.

Dwight: If Jim has bed bugs, that means they're everywhere. I can't risk them coming back to Schrute Farms. Our biggest attraction is our 200 year old mattresses.

Dwight: Welcome.
Jim: He welcomes you!
Dwight: Please take an agenda.
Jim: Your agenda-taking pleases him.

Dwight: Anderson's three pillars of retail. Crucial. So important. Next. Are there any questions?
Nellie: What are the three pillars of retail?
Erin: [whispers] Convenience.
Dwight: Ingredients.
Erin: Service.
Dwight: Burgers.
Erin: Building loyalty.
Dwight: Killing royalty. The truth be told, we should really disregard Anderson's three pillars. He was later diagnosed with dementia.

[Michael sees everyone getting up to leave]
Michael: Oh, my God! Okay, it's happening! Everybody stay calm.
Dwight: What's the procedure, everyone? What's the procedure?
Michael: STAY
Michael: CALM!

Dwight: I am always acting in self-defense. Sometimes in preemptive self-defense.

Dwight: Boycott the Steamtown mall! Everyone, you heard me. Cancel all your business with the Steamtown mall!
Phyllis: The mall itself, or the stores in the mall?
Dwight: All of it! The mall, the stores, the kiosks.
Ryan: America's one big mall!

Dwight: What'd you get?
Darryl: A book about oceans.
Dwight: Oh, really? What else? Let me see.
Darryl: That's porn. Pornography. Old lady. Nasty porn.

Jan: [on phone] Dwight, listen to me very carefully: you are not a manager of anything. Understand?
Dwight: That's not entirely true, because he put me in charge of picking a healthcare plan.
Jan: Really? Okay. When Michael gets back, you tell him to call me immediately.
Dwight: Call you immediately, good. Hey, listen, since I have you on the phone, um, can I fire Jim?
Jan: No.

[deliberating how to get back at Todd]
Jim: All right, well, this isn't my best, but call Froggy 101, say that we're the tour manager for Justin Bieber, and we're giving away free tickets. We give them a number to call for the tickets, and it's his number.
Dwight: Who is Justice Beaver?
Jim: He... It's a crime-fighting beaver.

Dwight: [the power shut off; cold opening] Uh-oh. Ok, ok, nobody panic! Listen up, listen up!
[Dwight uses a flashlight close to his face]
Dwight: Everyone, follow me to the shelter. We've got enough food for fourteen days. After that, we have a difficult conversation.
Michael: [the power went back on] My bad. Space Heater and Fan were both on high, plugged into the same outlet. So...
Jim: Um... it's saying the server went down? Does anybody know that password? 'Cause otherwise, we can't do any work.
Michael: Uh... try password.
Jim: Nope.
Dwight: Try 000000.
Jim: No.
Dwight: Okay, now try 000001.
Jim: Okay, I'm not doing every number.
Pam: Wait, um, does anyone remember when it was set up?
Michael: Uh... it was like, eight years ago?
Pam: Lord of the Rings stuff? I don't know, I'm just trying to think of things that were happening at the time.
Erin: Everyone was getting their driver's license.
Jim: Why don't we just call the IT guy who set it up? What's the name of the guy in glasses again?
Michael: Okay, moving backwards our IT guys have been... Glasses, Turban, Earhair, Fatty 3, Shorts, Fatty 2, Lozenge and Fatso. I think Lozenge was the one who installed it.
Andy: I got it. Try, um...
[Andy coughs]
Michael: You know what? It made me laugh but Pam got really offended.
Kevin: Big boobs.
Meredith: Drama queen?
Angela: Nosy?
Pam: You're typing big boobs?
Jim: I'm trying everything.
Dwight: Try big boobs with a z.
Jim: That's...
[the password got accepted]
Jim: the password. We're in.
[the crew cheered]
Michael: The important thing is, this kept us secure, people.

Deangelo: There he is! Got you coffee.
Dwight: Oh, wow! Thank you. That was so kind of you.
[Dwight puts his coffee in the trash bin]
Deangelo: Not a coffee guy, I take it, huh?
Dwight: It's just that I own the coffee shop. So, once you've seen sausage being made, all you want to do is make sausage, because it's so much fun.
Deangelo: Listen. I've got a sixer. Automatic for the People on the jukebox. Let's hit the park after sundown, come on. Pick up some sausage if you want.
Dwight: [Dwight points to Oscar] I think you'll find what you're looking for over there.
Deangelo: [Talking head] No matter how many times I reach out to Dwight, he doesn't seem to want anything to do with me. It reminds me of my relationship with my son, except there, I'm the Dwight.

Dwight: [yelling at Jim] I am making a citizen's arrest. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to beg for mercy. You have the right to request judgment by combat. Dwight's rights.

Dwight: Hope... grows...
Michael: In a dump.

Dwight: My German is pre-industrial, and mostly religious.

Toby: Hey Darryl, look, uh... We're here to apologize.
Darryl: Then we're cool.
Dwight: [notices the warehouse employees behind him] Wait! They're using the lift as their own personal elevator.
Toby: What?
Dwight: He broke his ankle climbing over the railing, then he lied about it because it was a misuse of company equipment. Case. Closed.
Darryl: That's the stupidest thing I ever heard.
Dwight: Really? Then why is there new wood only on one railing? Hmm?
[to Toby]
Dwight: Let's just check the security tapes, Toby.
Toby: Well, you know, I don't think there's any reason to check 'em, but I suppose if you want to be really certain...
Darryl: Alright, yeah. Fine, so whatever.
Dwight: YES!
Toby: You really did it.
Dwight: Now, I would like to file an official complaint to corporate because Darryl lied on an official form.
Darryl: [rises to his feet] Then I'm telling 'em you guys sexually harassed my sister.
Dwight: [snorts] No judge is gonna believe that.
[Upon hearing this, Gwyneth also stands up next to Darryl and joins the tense stare-down. Dwight doesn't back down, but his eyes shift edgily between Darryl and Gwyneth]
Toby: [nervously] Okay... Look, we could all file complaints against each other and just drown in a sea of paperwork, but, you know, we'll just move on with our -- with our lives.
[Still engrossed in their confrontation, Dwight and Darryl ignore him]
Toby: [later, in the annex] So Dwight and Darryl came to an agreement that they would both file complaints against corporate, and now I get to do all this paperwork.
Toby: We worked it out.

Dwight: When my mother was pregnant with me, they did an ultrasound and found she was having twins. When they did another ultrasound a few weeks later, they discovered that I had resorbed the other fetus. Do I regret this? No. I believe his tissues has made me stronger. I now have the strength of a grown man and a little baby.

Kelly: And the guys are saying, "Chug! Chug! Chug!" But I'm so small and all I had eaten that day was one of those Auntie Em pretzels from the food court. So I said, "Is it okay if I sip it?" And they said, "No." But Ryan seemed cool either way...
Dwight: Stop! This is not "Kelly Kapoor's Story Hour." Illegal drugs were consumed on company property, okay? Your ass is on the line, mister! My ass is on the line! Now, I'm gonna ask you again, what time did you go home last night?
Kelly: 6:00.

Dwight: It's a real shame, 'cause studies have shown that more information is passed through water-cooler gossip than through official memos, which puts me at a disadvantage because...
[picks up water bottle]
Dwight: I bring my own water to work.

Dwight: Yes, I have acted before. I was in a production of "Oklahoma!" in the seventh grade. I played the part of Mutie the Mailman. They had too many kids, so they made up roles like that. I was good.

Jim: [Jim enters the conference room and watches Dwight arranging Kelly's birthday party] Are you kidding?
Dwight: Well, I'm not done yet.
Jim: [Taking a half-blown up balloon] Dwight, this? Fits in the palm of my hand. You haven't blown them up enough. Why have you chosen brown and gray balloons?
Dwight: They match the carpet!
Jim: [Reading the birthday banner] What is that? "It is your birthday, period".
Dwight: It's stating a fact.
Jim: Not even an exclammation point?
Dwight: This is more professional! It's not like she discovered a cure for cancer.
Jim: I can't believe how bad this looks.
Dwight: Are you trying to hurt my feelings? Because if so, you are succeeding. Fortunately my feelings regenerate at twice the speed of a normal man's.
Jim: Ok, good then.
Dwight: Have you collected the money from everyone?
Jim: I am working on it.
Dwight: How much do you have?
Jim: Six dollars.
Dwight: That's how much you and I contributed! Damn it, Jim.
Jim: [Mumbling] I said I was working on it.

- I'll make sure that's covered.
- Okay, now, who wrote this...
- This hysterical one?
- Anal fissures.
- That's a real thing.
Dwight: Yeah, but no one here has it.
- Someone has it.

Dwight: Downsizing? I have no problem with that. I have been recommending downsizing since I first got here. I even brought it up in my interview. I say, bring it on.

Dwight: No, don't just let her eat the grass, she'll puke it right up. Okay, just put out two bowls and see which feed she prefers. I'm sorry to be taking up so much of your precious time, Mose, but she's your aunt too,

[first lines]
Pam: Hey Jim. Stanley's back from the hospital today. Can you sign his card?
Jim: Oh, great.
Jim: "Glad they didn't mix up your tonsillectomy with a moustachectomy." Oh, that's not good.
Phyllis: Oh, because your jokes are all hilarious.
Pam: It's nice. It's funny. It mentions his tonsillectomy and makes a funny little joke about his moustache.
Jim: Stanley doesn't have a moustache.
Pam: Yeah, he does.
Oscar: Pam, hit the brakes. Stanley does not have a moustache. I misspoke. I'm not sure. I think he has one, now that- I think he has a moustache.
Pam: Okay, Phyllis sits across from him every day. Phyllis, does he have a moustache or not?
Phyllis: Oh, I don't know. Now I think he doesn't.
Pam: Phyllis! What are you talking- The whole card depends on this!
Jim: Okay, the man's worked here for 25 years. How can none of us picture his face?
Angela: Because we come here to do our jobs. We don't stick our noses in other people's business.
Pam: Okay, which one of these looks more right?
[holds up drawing of Stanley with and without a moustache]
Dwight: Neither of those looks like any person that has ever existed or been dreamt of in the history of human insanity. That said, the one on the left.
Gabe: [bell dings] Guys, that's the elevator. What if it's him?
Jim: Okay, quick. Who says moustache?
[Pam, Oscar, Dwight, and Creed raise their hands]
Dwight: Yep.
Jim: Who says no moustache?
[Jim, Angela, and Phyllis raise their hands; Gabe enters, hiding Stanley's face]
Gabe: [reveals Stanley's moustache] Ah! Ha ha ha!
Phyllis: He does have a moustache.
Dwight: Yes!
Pam: Welcome back, Stanley.
[Stanley grunts]

- And you are purposefully celebrating the opposite of them to mollycoddle a pregnant woman.
Phyllis: No, we're not. No.
Dwight: Yes, you are.
- And another thing, Helen mirren was born Helen mironoff.
- That's right, you're fake salivating over a Soviet-era Russian.

Jim: Side effects of EMF include headaches.
Dwight: Had them all my life.
Jim: Breast pain.
Dwight: [Pointing to his chest] No knobbies, no probbies. Nice try Jim.

Dwight: Through concentration, I can raise and lower my cholesterol at will.
Pam: Why would you wanna raise your cholesterol?
Dwight: So I can lower it.

Dwight: TweedleDee and TweedleDumbass have been away on maternity leave, but now TweedleDumbass is back and we have a problem. Yes, getting hooked on Megadesk was my own damn fault but... I don't care about assigning blame. All I care about, is Megadesk.

Jim: What have we got here?
Dwight: Megadesk.

Man: [deleted scene] She's got it up now.
Sheriff: He'll be up. Okay, sure. I'll get someone down.
Dwight: Hey. Hey. Jerry.
Sheriff: Thanks.
Dwight: Sheriff Pierce? I'm turning in my badge.
Sheriff: Where did you get that?
Dwight: I got it here.
Sheriff: No. No, you didn't. We didn't give you this.
Dwight: No, I mean at the gift shop. Also, I can't wear this anymore.
Sheriff: You were never supposed to wear this in the first place, Dwight. Come on now, seriously, you got me concerned here a little bit.
Dwight: Oh, don't worry. I never abused my power. I only tried to help the Sheriff's Department in any way I could.
Sheriff: Right, well... Why don't you give me a couple examples of ways that you've helped us out?
Dwight: Oh, God, there are so many. Roadside assistance, breaking up unruly parties, surveillance...
Sheriff: Surveillance?
Dwight: Crowd control, directing traffic...
Sheriff: Mace! You... You've been carrying around weapons-grade Mace?
Dwight: I've only had to use it once.

[Dwight suspects the new website has become self-aware through instant messages Pam is sending]
Dwight: [typing] How do I know this isn't Jim?
Pam: [typing] What is a Jim?

Dwight: Hey, Toby.
Toby: Hey, Dwight.
Dwight: You said that we could come to you if we had any questions.
Toby: Sure.
Dwight: [pause] Where is the clitoris?
[Toby stares, shocked]
Dwight: On a website, it said, "At the crest of the labia." What does that mean? What does the female vagina look like?
Toby: [talking to the camera] Technically, I am in Human Resources, and Dwight was asking about human anatomy. I'm just sad the public school system failed him so badly.

Dwight: Brownies, is it?
Dwight: Pastry cubes made of sugar and fat? No, thank you. I'll stick with my jerky.
Jim: So why'd you come in here?
Dwight: To socialize. And inform.

[first lines]
Dwight: I have the best survival stock shelter in north eastern Pennsylvania. But everything has a shelf-life. So I must eat and replace everything that's about to expire. It's nice not to have to plan my meals.

Roy: I hate it when girls insist on taking them out to new restaurants every weekend night, and then they're like, "When are we gonna go on a date-date?"
Dwight: Yeah, and then they make you drive them to church the next morning. Like, gas ain't free.

Dwight: I'd like to be interviewed for the position.
Jo: I'll interview you right now.
Dwight: Okay.
Jo: Question 1: Ever shot a gun in the office?

Erin: Yes.
Dwight: Thank you.
Jim: I think you might want to kneel forthis.
- And yet, the manager of dunder Mifflin kneels for no man.
- That's it. Okay.
Jim: You look really, really good.

Lawyer: I don't follow this exactly. Uh, "The Descendants of any replicants from this union shall have..."
Dwight: Joint custody.
Lawyer: Are we talking about your grandchildren?
Angela: No.
Dwight: No.

Deangelo: You know, I have a cousin who cracked the formula for a certain popular cola that I shall not name. So, I've never had to buy it. True story. I just drink my cousin's.
Dwight: Congratulations on your one cousin. I have seventy, each one better than the last.
Deangelo: You know what... straight up, why don't you like me?
Dwight: I'm just not a suck-up like everyone else around here. Okay? I do my job well, so why don't you just leave me alone and let me do it. Okay?
Deangelo: Oh, no.
Dwight: What?
Deangelo: Okay? I'm going to win you over.
Dwight: No, you're not.
Deangelo: Yes, I am.
Dwight: No.
Deangelo: Oh, yes!
Dwight: No.
Deangelo: Yes!
Dwight: No!
Deangelo: Yes!
Dwight: No!
Deangelo: Yes!
Dwight: No!
Deangelo: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
[as Deangelo repeatedly yells yes in a fast manner, he ran out the break room]

[reading the note Andy posted to a bush in the parking lot]
Dwight: "From the desk of Andrew Bernard." A note. Pathetic. "Dear Dwight, by now you have received my note. How are you? I am well. You are no doubt wondering why I have left this note. It's come to my attention that in any physical match with you, I would surely be bested." True. "The soft underbelly of my refined upbringing is my soft underbelly. Alas, after much consideration..."

[Michael and Dwight updating Jim over the walkie-talkie]
Michael: There's a guy. There's a guy.
Dwight: There's a security guard coming by. Hello. We're warehouse workers. Would you like more proof?
[Jim looks at the camera]
Security: Okay.
Michael: Oh, my God. That was very close.
Dwight: I can see the security guard's eyes.
Jim: No. No. Don't do anything to them.
Dwight: I have to do something to his eyes.

Dwight: Do you know what this is?
[shows Phyllis a picture]
Phyllis: Yes, it's marijuana.
Dwight: How do you know that?
Phyllis: It's labeled.
Dwight: Dammit!

[last lines]
Dwight: What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning, the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier.

Dwight: Women love gossip. It's like air to you people.

Jim: So, from time to time, I send Dwight faxes. From himself. From the future.
Dwight: [reading fax] Dwight, at 8:00 a.m. today, someone poisons the coffee. Do not drink the coffee. More instructions will follow. Cordially, Future Dwight.
[sees Stanley about to drink the coffee and sprints across the office, knocking the cup out of Stanley's hand]
Dwight: No!
[after knocking the cup to the floor]
Dwight: You'll thank me later.

Angela: [during dinner] How's your meat?
Dwight: Dry. Delicious.

Jim: Why have you chosen brown and gray balloons?
Dwight: They match the carpet.
Jim: What is that?
[reading a banner]
Jim: "It is your birthday," period.
Dwight: It is a statement of fact
Jim: Not even an exclamation point?
Dwight: This is more professional. It's not like she discovered a cure for cancer.

Pam: [deleted scene] Last night? Let's see.
Dwight: Go ahead. Don't lie.
Pam: I won't. It's just that last night is really hard for me to remember because I was just a teensy bit high. Should I have not said that?
Dwight: No, no, no. It's okay. Go ahead.
Pam: I know that I shouldn't have done it. But I was in the parking lot at the Quick and Easy.
Dwight: Oh.
Pam: And I took a bong hit from my Bong Water with my pimp.
Dwight: Oh.

Pam: Dwight, am I hot right now?
Dwight: Why would I or anyone else think that you're hot right now? I can't impregnate you, and that's the driving force between male-female attraction.

Dwight: I've pretty much given up on Michael doing the right thing, or the decent thing, or even the comprehensible thing.

Michael: Why is my office black?
Dwight: To intimidate my subordinates.
Michael: That's stupid.

Dwight: [trying to comfort Angela] Hey, come on, don't be sad. Just... Okay? Just... She's in a better place.
Angela: [sobbing] All right.
Dwight: Actually, the place that she's in is the freezer because of the odor.

[last lines]
Ryan: How's it going? Good day?
Dwight: Not now, Temp.
Ryan: Um, okay, so, um, listen. I know about your diabolical plan.
Dwight: What? Diabolical plan? I wouldn't even know how to begin a diabol...
[Ryan holds up a printed copy of "My Diabolical Plan by Dwight K. Schrute"]
Ryan: I found a copy of it in the copier tray.
Dwight: So what do you want?
Ryan: I want the same thing you want. I want to take Jim Halpert down. I want in.

Pam: You're breaking the law.
Dwight: Impossible. I love the law.
Pam: Read Article 19. There are certain standards you have to maintain the building at. And that includes comfortable temperatures and adequate lighting. It also means no more cutting the tampons in two. And no more tampering with the toilet paper.
Dwight: I see I've underestimated you. And I didn't think that was possible. Nate. Re-ply the paper.
Nate: [separating rolls of toilet paper on a spinning machine] I don't think it goes that way.
Dwight: Re-ply it!

- This isn't the surprise.
- It's surprising, um, because you didn't expect it.
- But you will... you'll know it when you see it.
Dwight: Michael!
- Michael!
- Oh, for god's sake.

Dwight: I am greatly concerned about having a convict in the office. And I do not care if that convict is white, black, Asian, German, or some kind of halfsy. I do not like criminals.

Dwight: Jim, could you please inform Andy Bernard that he is being shunned?
Jim: Andy, Dwight says welcome back and that he could use a hug.
Dwight: Okay. Tell him that that's not true.
Jim: Dwight says that he actually doesn't know one single fact about bear attacks.
Dwight: Okay, no, Jim.
Andy: [chuckles] You guys.
Dwight: Tell him that bears can climb faster than they can run. Jim, tell him!
[Andy walks away to his desk]
Jim: Andy... No, it's too far.
Dwight: [pause] Damn you.

Dwight: Where are they?
Kevin: They're in the trash. They're in the trash.
Dwight: The trash. It's code. All right, Meredith, take of your dress!
Meredith: Okey dokey.
Kevin: No! Dear God, no! It's in the trash can.

Michael: [comparing the warehouses's safety training to theirs] They used props, they used visual aids and they just made us look like dopes.
Dwight: Idiots! God, what are we going to *do*?
Michael: I don't know. I don't know. Because you know what our killer is?
Michael: [simultaneously] Depression.
Dwight: [simultaneously] Wolves.
Michael: [pause] Depression.
Dwight: Visual aids?
Michael: Yes.
Dwight: A quilt. A depression quilt?

Jim: I'm sure- I'm sure she's in a better place. I really hope so.
[Dwight is making a dirtball]
Jim: Okay, now this is crazy. You can't make a dirtball...
Dwight: [crying] I miss her so much.
[He screams and throws the dirtball in Jim's face]

Dwight: Remember, you said that Robert was not fulfilling you. And then I said that I could fulfill you. And you said, "I'd like to see you try." And then I kissed you with the force of a thousand waterfalls.

Michael: I want you to think about your future at this company. I want you to think about it long and hard.
Dwight: That's what she said.
Michael: Don't... Don't you dare.

Stanley: [on the phone] Go ahead. Get the wallpaper. Wallpaper the ceiling if you want. Call Terri and tell her she...
Phyllis: It's unbelievable!
Dwight: Excuse me! May I have your attention, please? There has been an accident on 84 West. Cars have skidded off the road into the safety railing. Several cars have flipped. There is broken glass everywhere. Several people are injured.
Pam: Do we know anyone who was in the accident?
Dwight: Brad Pitt. Also there will be no bonuses.
Stanley: Why would this affect our bonuses?
Dwight: They are unrelated.
Kelly: Is Brad okay?
Dwight: He will never act again. Also, this branch is closing.
Oscar: What the hell is going on here?
Angela: Are we out of jobs?
Dwight: Yes.
Kelly: This is karma because of what he did to Jennifer Aniston.
Michael: He's kidding. Dwight was kidding, and I don't know why because it wasn't funny... and it was just horrible.
Stanley: Michael?
Michael: Yeah.
Stanley: You said we were getting bonuses.
Michael: All right. Everybody in the conference room now. Let's go. Let's do it.
Stanley: Cancel the wallpaper.

Dwight: [talking to the baby] Oh, yes. Oh, what a beautiful child. Prominent forehead, short arms, tiny nose. You will lead millions... willingly or as slaves.

[Dwight interviews for Regional Manager position with his face covered in bandages and shades, handing Jim, Toby, and Gabe his résumé]
Jim: Hello, Mr. Souvenier. Mr. Jacques Souvenier? Nice to meet you. It says here you're French?
[Dwight nods, and Jo looks at the bandaged Dwight suspiciously, believing that it is really Dwight]
Jim: So you worked at your last job for 15 years as assistant to the regional manager.
Dwight: [Muttering to disguise his voice] Assistant regional manager.
Jim: Assistant *to the* regional manager.
Dwight: Assistant regional manager.
Jim: What is it?
Dwight: [in French accent] Assistant regional manager.
Jim: Oh, that's my mistake. Sorry about that. The last paper company you worked for burned to the ground? And all because they wouldn't hire a manager who lived and breathed paper. That's a travesty.

Holly: Okay, look, let's just go somewhere high and see if we could spot him on the street below.
Dwight: That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard. No.

- I don't mind if I do. Thank you.
Dwight: Thank you, Santa.
- Okay, happy holidays.
- It's real slippery out here.
- Oh, my god.
- Twelve drummers drumming.

Dwight: [deleted scene] Dwight Schrute. My father's name, also Dwight Schrute. My grandfather's name, Dweide Schrude, Amish. That's my family. I don't know where they came, the Amish, came from originally. Uh, Amland.
Michael: [holding up a Dundie and pretending it is talking] Hello. I'm Michael Scott. I'm the best boss in the world.
Jim: My name is Jim Halpert and I am a sales rep, which is a very important job. Um, without me dozens, literally dozens of small businesses would go paperless. They would have to write on their hands, or bed sheets, or who knows, you know. Total chaos, total chaos. I mean... or they could get their paper somewhere else. Staples maybe. I don't know.

Dwight: I brought in some new faces and one old. I always like Devon. I hired him back after Creed faked his own death in the baler the day after the doc aired. The only person he fooled was Kevin. Then the police showed up. Turns out, Creed was in the band "The Grass Roots" in the 1960's. During that time, the police say he sold drugs and trafficked in endangered species meat and stole weapons-grade LSD from the military.

Michael: I know. Grumble, grumble, but you would follow me to the ends of the earth grumbling all the way. Like that dwarf from "Lord of the Rings."
Dwight: Gimli.
Michael: Nerd. That is why you're not on the team.
Dwight: Just trying to be helpful.
Michael: [mimicking Dwight] "I'll help. Elwyn Dragonslayer. Ten points, power sword."
Jim: That's him.

Dwight: In the end, the greatest snowball isn't a snowball at all; it's fear.

Dwight: What are you doing?
Kevin: I wanted to eat a pig in a blanket... In a blanket.

Jake: You're ugly.
Dwight: Well, at least I'm not a horrible little latchkey kid who got suspended from school. So...
Jake: Meredith!
Dwight: [mockingly] Meredith.

Dwight: [after hiding inside of a snowman in order to ambush Jim] I have no feeling in my fingers or penis, but I think it was worth it.

Dwight: I'm a deer hunter, I go all the time with my dad. One thing about deer? They have very good vision. One thing about me? I'm better at hiding than they are at vision.

Dwight: Five times for $30,000? Not a bad stud fee. Better than most horses.

Michael: But seriously, what's the difference between a salesman and a saleswoman?
Dwight: A saleswoman has a vagina.
Michael: It's a joke, Dwight. It's not a sex ed class.

Dwight: Not that guy who murdered his mother. He was not so handsome. Also, Kevin.

Dwight: It is my job to be there for Michael. How can I be there for Michael if I am here for Michael?