Cheryl: Who am I, Elisha Otis?

Conway: It's a silent submarine propulsion system called the "Whisper Drive". [...] This is Wilhelm Schmeck, inventor of the Whisper Drive. Yesterday, Schmeck went missing, along with the plans for the Whisper Drive. I've tracked him to South Beach where he's arranged to sell the plans to Cuban Naval Intelligence. If that happens, undetectable Cuban missile subs could be parked right off Miami Beach.
Mallory: Ugh, just what Miami needs... More Cubans.

Conway: You haven't seen the last of Conway Stern... Which is not my real name.

Cyril: For god's sake, Pam! Have you no sense of decency? That bathroom's like a... a war crime.
Pam: Don't blame me, it's those new low-flow toilets! With the old ones, you could flush a dachshund puppy. [Pause] I mean, not that you would.

Cyril: How did you know where I was?
Lana: When we first started going out, I may have...[quickly] injected a tracking device into your body.
Cyril: In my body?
Lana: Baby? Hon?
Cyril: No no, now that is a breach of trust, Lana.
Lana: Do you really want to open this can of trust-breachy worms right after I just caught you and my ex-boyfriend with a dead hooker in the trunk?
Cyril: I do not.
Lana: You do not.

Cyril: Kreiger's father was a nazi scientist!
Malory: And JFK's father was a bootlegger.
Cyril: That's like comparing apples to... nazi oranges!
Malory: Oranges, exactly! Do you like powdered orange breakfast drink?
Cyril: No. Not Really.
Malory: How about Microwave ovens, Neil Armstrong, hook and loop fasteners?
Cyril: Ok, you lost me...
Malory: None of those things would have been possible without the nazi scientists we brought back after World War Two.
Cyril: The nazis invented Neil Armstrong?
Malory: Rockets! Which put him on the moon. After the war ended, we were snatching up kraut scientists like hot cakes. You don't believe me? walk into NASA sometime and yell "Heil Hitler" WOOP they all jump straight up!

Cyril: [carrying Torvald's body] I should be carrying her.
Archer: [carrying Elke's body] Cyril, I paid her, I get to carry her corpse.

Cyril: Every single time we come here, we have to help you get rid of a dead body.
Malory: Well you've only been here twice.
Ray: Speaking of, why the hell was the prime minister of Italy here?
Archer/Lana: Don't ask.
Pam: And follow-up, did those dastardly dagoes kill him and then dress him up like a big, giant penis, or...
Malory: Oh, God, that reminds me. KRIEGER!
Krieger: Yeah, I found it!
Cyril: Found what?
Archer/Lana: Don't ask!
Krieger: Can I keep it?
Cheryl: Keep what?
Archer/Lana: Don't ask!
Malory: Just get it out of here, please!
Krieger: Yeah, take that tone.

Cyril: I hate all of you so much.
Ray: No one cares, Figgis. You're only here to round out the numbers.

Cyril: I moved in with my last girlfriend after four weeks!
Lana: What are you? A lesbian?

Cyril: I spent last night in the tombs, getting worked over by the cops!
Ray: Fun! ... Oh, you mean literally.

Cyril: Oh, I think we're pretty diverse.
Lana: Ha! Please...
Archer: What? You're black... ish...
Lana: "ISH?"
Archer: Well, what's the word for it, Lana? You freaked out when I said "Quadroon!"
Lana: Imagine that!
Archer: You imagine it!
Malory: Both of you, imagine shutting up!

Cyril: So how about I take a look at it? I'm sure I could kill that pesky ol' worm.
Lana: How? You gonna disappoint it to death?

Cyril: These are from a doctor!
Cheryl: So? Krieger's a doctor.
Cyril: Not the medical kind!
Krieger: Not even the other kind, technically.

Cyril: When would you use an underwear gun?
Archer: Hopefully never. But say you're in a Caribbean bungalow, and you're kind of high, an exotic woman on the bed. Now is she just the high-priced whore you asked for? Or is she an... assassin?
Cyril: I don't know.
Archer: Oh, here's room service. Who ordered champagne?
Cyril: Ah. How should I know?
Archer: Exactly. You're baked. You can't remember. But since when does it take three huge surly Jamaican guys to deliver one bottle of champagne?
Cyril: Ohh. Because they're assassins too?
Archer: Or.. Maybe one guy's a new waiter. The second one's training him, and the third's from maintenance, finally off his lazy ass to fix the A.C.
Cyril: Oh, yeah. I guess that could happen.
Archer: Point is, you come out of the john waving this around... no one's gonna bug you for a tip.