Archer: There's my favorite section head!
Pam: I am dealing with the breakroom problem!
Archer: Oh, good, you caught the, uh, oh wait, I had something good for this... the... "Pita Predator".
Pam: You know what?
Archer: ...Sorry, let's just call it what it is: food rapist.
Pam: Not a pretty name, is it?

Archer: There's your bomber: Beardsley McTurbanhead.

Archer: This is what a real field agent uses.
[Archer gives Cyril a new pen]
Cyril: The point is a lot finer than I prefer.
Archer: That's because it's a hypodermic needle and the cartridge is full of a deadly super-toxin called poiso... caine. [puts the pen in Cyril's shirt-pocket] Keep it in here. But be careful, because the cap slips off for, like, no reason.

Archer: Wait, does Canada even have a spy agency?
Katya: Yes, but...
Archer: Wha-- why? Haha, it's Canada.

Archer: Way the Christ out in the Everglades burying some Dominican guy's rooster!
Charles: Fun! Wha-- Oh, you mean literally.

Archer: Well look on the bright side.
Lana: Which is?
Archer: Which is what?
Lana: You just said look on the brightside.
Archer: Its a figure of speech.

Archer: Well, thanks for nothing, Carol. Now I need to break into ISIS headquarters in a $900 turtleneck. And if it gets ruined I'll make you drink heavy cream, you... Carol!
[Archer zip-lines across to the roof of ISIS]
Archer: Wow, that was actually pretty easy! Thanks, new turtleneck! [rips his turtleneck] Aw, f-- And thank you, duffle bag!

Archer: Well, unless it was the creepy-old-people-bondage-sex police, why would anyone break in here and shoot him?! No answer? Okay, let's ask him. [Pulls off mask]
Lana: Holy shit!
Malory: Because he's Savio Mascalzone.
Archer: Uh...
Lana: Oh, for - The prime minister of Italy!
Archer: The what?! Wait, doesn't Italy use a king?
Lana: No, they don't "use a king!"
Malory: What year do you think this is?!
Archer: I... yeah, exactly. Good question.

Archer: What are you doing?
Cyril: Oh. Just dicing veggies for dinner. I always make Lana stirfry for dinner on Friday.
Archer: Neat. Listen...
Cyril: [very excitedly] Guess what we call it!
Archer: "Stir Friday?"
Cryil: [long pause] Wow. That's actually better.
Archer: It's all yours. So come let me in the mainframe.
[Later]
Archer: And after I gave you "Stir Friday!"
Cyril: Yeah, that is much better.
Archer: I know.

Archer: What is your problem with the Irish?
Malory: You mean besides not being on our side in World War II?
Archer: Yeah, besides that. Wait, seriously? They were Nazis?
Lana: No!
Archer: Well, they're not Japanese...
Lana: Neutral!

Archer: Where did you learn all that stuff?
Pam: You know I grew up on a farm, right?
Archer: Really hoping that's not relevant.

Archer: Who am I, Alan Turing?

Archer: Who hunts dogs?
Cheryl: Orientals, duh!

Archer: Whoa, I would not push her. That is a big gun and she is baby crazy.
Lana: "Baby crazy"?!
Archer: That's why I broke up with her.
Lana: You lying--! You sack of shit! I broke up with you because you're carrying around a 35-year-old umbilical cord!
Archer: See?! All you talk about is baby shit! Because you're baby crazy!
Lana: You want to see crazy?!
Archer: No! I've seen that movie and, spoiler alert, it ends with a closet full of my suits on fire!
Lana: I wish you'd been wearing one!
Archer: Who would want to wear an on-fire suit!
Lana: Cosplay enthusiasts!
Archer: What?
Lana: Wait! No! Shit!

Archer: WOOOHOOOOOOO!!! THIS MUST BE WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE SEX WITH ME!
Lana: HOW CAN AN AIR BOAT BE SELFISH?!