Monica: Throwing a party it's like... it's like an invitation for abuse. It's like the last desperate act of someone who hasn't had a lasting relationship since Junior High.
Lucy: You need to find somebody that likes you the way you are.
Kevin: And who would possibly like me the way I am?
Lucy: I have no idea.
Kevin: Look, I'm just gonna go home and kill myself. You wanna share a cab?
Lucy: So I can pass out and wake up alone on New Year's Day?
Ellie: I've dated enough narcissistically neurotic men to know that you are all just a pack of roving babies in search of a giant teat from which to suck the lifeblood out of me until I am a hollow shell.
Hillary: I don't want to look desperate.
Monica: Desperate? You could stand there naked with a mattress strapped to your back and still look like a vestal virgin.
Hillary: Do you think that would work?
Stephie: You just stay the fuck away from B.
Bartender: So, how do you like your eggs done in the morning, scrambled or fertilized?
Bartender: Those clothes and my clothes would look good on my floor.
Eric: You bring me over here, and you tell me I'm the worst lover you ever had. And now you tell me it can't be helped.
Kevin: Did you know that cigarettes are a shield against meaningful interaction with people?
Ellie: These matches are disappointing me.
Disco Cabbie: Everybody's having fun out here. They drinking, they fighting, they pissing on the streets. It's New Year's Eve. They loving the ladies.
