Jerry: I see New York. I see Vienna Opera House. I see Paris.
Phyllis: All in the shower?
Jerry: Yes. They love it that he sings in the shower. They identify. You know, he's going to be the most popular opera singer in the world.
Phyllis: Certainly the cleanest.
Jerry: Don't analyze me, Phyllis, okay? You know, many have tried and all have failed. My brain doesn't fit the usual id-ego-superego model.
Phyllis: No, you have the only brain with three ids.
Jack: With age comes wisdom.
John: With age comes exhaustion.
Michelangelo: He sings for pleasure, not money.
Jerry: Well, there's a great deal of pleasure in money. You know, you... it's green and crinkly. You can fondle the bills.
Jerry: In life I have a terrible voice, but when I'm soaping myself under hot water, I sound just like Eartha Kitt.
Hayley: You look strange.
Jerry: Phyllis, I'm having... there's a psychological term for this. I'm having a breakthrough or an epiphany. What is the term for what I'm having?
Phyllis: A death wish.
John: John: And you buy into her bullshit because she seems to know all the right things to say. She knows names, she knows buzzwords, she knows certain cultural phrases that imply that she knows more than she does.
Giancarlo: Someone dead?
Jerry: No, but it's early.
Jerry: Jesus. The kid's a Communist, the father's a mortician. Does the mother run a leper colony?
Monica: I call that futile feeling, Ozymandias Melancholia.
John: Oh God! Here comes the bullshit.
John: A year with her, she would've had you free fall parachuting and adopting Burmese orphans.
Anna: I am here to fulfill your dreams.
Jack: It's incredible that the Colosseum is still standing after thousands of years. You know, Sally and I have to re-tile the bathroom every six months.
Jerry: If you're channeling Freud, ask for my money back.
