Russian: Come on, we don't have all night.
Archer: Yeah right, like you've got plans.
Russian: Good bye, Mr. Archer.
Archer: Hey. Fuck you, you douche bag.

Russian: If I tell you all at once, your head might explode... Along with comb over.

Russian: What an asshole...

Trexler: Barry, you ass, for the love of all that's green - drive me and Rabbert to the lettuce store.

Trexler: [after Archer hits a polo ball out the window] God, you're a natural! Bet it's all that lacrosse at boarding school, no doubt.
Archer: Yeah, 13 years' worth.
Trexler: 13 years?! What, did she ship you off in kindergarten?! Gosh, that must've been tough.
Archer: No, I loved it. Uh... made a lot of good friends. [Quick cutaway to a young Archer sitting alone on the lacrosse field] Family, almost, is what they were.
Trexler: Speaking of, how's your mother taking all this?
Archer: Oh, please. I bet she doesn't even miss me.
[Cut to ISIS]
Malory: [drunk on Absinthe] Because he'll be back, crying for his mommy! Just like that Christmas break when I moved and forgot to give my new address to his stupid boarding school. [Cheryl gasps.] I mean, he rode the train into the city all by himself. He couldn't pick up a phone book? Nine years old, and bawling in that police station like a little girl! What's that tell you?
Cheryl: Kind of a lot, actually.
Malory: Oh, shut up. I bet you're barren.

Trinette: Ew, what is this? Homemade salad dressing?
Dr. Krieger: Breast milk.
Trinette: Ew! I actually... have my own.
Dr. Krieger: So... you won't need this.
[Grabs jar and walks away]
Cheryl: Here, it's some plastic dry cleaner bags and a book about SIDS.
Trinette: What, what kind of shit gift is that?!
Pam: Yeah, I made mine.
Dr. Krieger: [shouting from distance] Me too!
Archer: [with Woodhouse] That's disgusting. If I wanted to look at your bare feet, Woodhouse, I'd sneak in and do it while you were asleep.
Dr. Krieger: Me too!
. . .
Trinette: [holding Seamus] Somebody's got a full diaper.
Dr. Krieger: [shouting from distance] Me too!

Woodhouse: From the looks of it, and not to mention the lemur, I would hazard he's taking a personal day.

Woodhouse: I'm afraid the lemur got into the pudding cups.
Archer: Yeah, like I told you he would! You idiot!

Woodhouse: Sir, that stolen lemur bit one of your prostitutes right in the face and she says she can't go to hospital because she's, quote, "tripping balls."

[A kidnapper punches Pam in the face]
Pam: Who taught you how to punch? [Spits] Your husband?

[All dialogue and action unseen]
Malory: All right, drop them there next to that awful Louis Quinze repro. [Thump, clatter] Now, then. We want this to look like a classic hooker/murder/suicide. So... Cyril, take Sterling's gun and pump a round into his prostitute.
Cyril: Wait, what?!
Malory: Everyone shoots the chippy! That way, we're all in it together. Think of it as a team-building exercise.
Cyril: But ODIN gets to go on Outward Bound.
Malory: Well, ODIN can suck it! Now shoot!
Cyril: Oh, Jesus.
[Muffled gunshot]
Cheryl: Ew.
Malory: You're next.
Archer: God, Cyril, that was... [gunshot] pathetic.
Cyril: Shut up.
Malory: Come on! Everybody shoots!
Pam: Hey, I wanna go!
[Five muffled gunshots]
Malory: Now, Sterling, drop your gun between the bodies...
Archer: No! Have you ever seen CSI? This is already like Clue Town.
Malory: Not for long. Dr Krieger, dear...
Archer: Wha... oh.
Malory: Cyril, call 911 from their phone and leave it off the hook, and... Sterling!
Archer: But this gun--it was a gift.
Malory: Oh, please! Nobody gives you gifts!
Archer: You don't know.
Malory: Whatever you say, dear. Dr. Krieger.
[Flick of a lighter, slight plume of flame]
Cyril: Oh, hot potato!
Archer: We still didn't get the UN contract.
Malory: Oh, but I will. And I'll get to see Trudy Beekman try to explain this little barbecue to the co-op board!
Woodhouse: That smell takes me back--just like a Zambesi feast.
Pam: Yeah, I'm kinda hungry. Is that weird?
Malory: It would be weirder if you weren't.

[Archer and Conway are hugging after they completed their mission. Conway stabs Archer in the back]
Archer: Conway?
Conway: Yeah, buddy.
Archer: Are there more bad guys behind me?
Conway: Nope.
Archer: You dick.

[Archer and Cyborg-Katya are in bed. Cyborg-Katya's eyes are glowing red]
Archer: Can you close your eyes? It feels like I'm banging tail-lights on a country road.

[Archer has drunk an entire bottle of scotch]
Cyril: That was a gift to my grandfather! From Frank! SINATRA!
Archer: Which makes me feel even more terrible, since I'm going to puke it back up in five-- [burps] one minutes...

[Archer holding baseball mitt up, as ball slowly floats back to him]
Archer: Fuck you, space.