[Monk has reduced a whole room full of Sapphire models to tears reading Trudy's last poem to him]
Partygoer: [coming in] Anybody want a swim?
Model: I just want to go home.
2nd Model: Me, too.

[Monk inspects the propmaster's toolbox]
O'Dell: Excuse me. What are you doing?
Adrian Monk: Uh, I was just��nothing.
O'Dell: Hey, don't fiddle with the props. I've got to know where these are in the dark, by touch, at a moment's notice. I've been juggling props for forty-four years. Ask me about the first prop I ever bought.
Adrian Monk: What was the��
O'Dell: The sword Richard Burton used in Camelot. I had to go to Scotland to get it.
Adrian Monk: Really? Wow. I'm, uh, I'm Adrian Monk, and this is Sh--she's usually right here. This is a terrible week. I'll bet.
O'Dell: Hey, that wasn't my fault. The cops had me under the lights all night long. I told them��I put the prop knife on the set. We use two knives on this show. A real one, and one like this: [O'Dell pulls out and stabs himself with a prop knife]
Adrian Monk: Hey, whoa! [The knife retracts; O'Dell laughs]
O'Dell: Don't wet yourself. The blade retracts into the handle. Gail must have switched the gag knife for the real one before the show.
Adrian Monk: May I? [He holds the prop knife up]
O'Dell: See? It doesn't feel like a real knife at all, does it?
Adrian Monk: No.
O'Dell: She had to know she was holding a real knife. What happened onstage Sunday night, that was no accident. That was a woman scorned. �Hell hath no fury,�� right?
Adrian Monk: And you're sure you put a fake knife on the stage?
O'Dell: I swear. I put it there myself, half an hour before curtain.
Adrian Monk: And there was nobody else here?
O'Dell: Nope. Except Jenna. Jenna Ryan, Gail's understudy. She was checking in. They check in before the show, see if anybody's sick.

[Monk is forced to go on a Speedy Date to talk to Jenna Ryan]
Date #1: I like your eyes.
Adrian Monk: Well, thank you. They came with the face.
Date #1: So you're a former police officer.
Adrian Monk: That's right.
Date #1: You still have your handcuffs?
Adrian Monk: Yes.
Date #1: Can you show them to me sometime?
Adrian Monk: I don't see why you would want to... they're just handcuffs!

[Monk is observing Dexter Larsen's room]
Adrian Monk: That's strange. Why would he need a mirror on the ceiling?
Sharona Fleming: Try not to think about that now.

[Monk is searching Danny Bonaduce's car when Dexter Larsen spots him]
Dexter Larsen: Detective, caddie, car thief. You wear many hats, Mr. Monk. You, uh��you looking for something?
Adrian Monk: Did you drive this car, Mr. Larsen? Maybe Sunday morning?
Dexter Larsen: Why would you think that?
Adrian Monk: Somebody was smoking a cigar in here.
Dexter Larsen: Well, a lot of people smoke cigars, Mr. Monk.
Adrian Monk: Right, but the texture and size of this cigar ash are consistent with those from your precious Cubano de Oros.
Dexter Larsen: Hmmm.
Adrian Monk: How did you do it?
Dexter Larsen: You mean how did I, uh, rise from humble beginnings to achieve all of this?
Adrian Monk: No, no. I mean. How did you murder Elliot D'Souza?
Dexter Larsen: What are you talking about? There was no murder. Elliot was alone. The door was locked.
Adrian Monk: Right. How did you do it?
Dexter Larsen: You've taken a great interest in me, and the truth is I've taken an interest on you too, and your friend Sharona. May I show you something? [produces a photograph from an envelope] My research staff is first rate. She must have been nineteen, maybe twenty. You know what? Th��that's��that's my favorite age. Hungry with no inhibitions. These were taken in Atlantic City. She was using a different name, but my lawyers assure me that the release that she signed is solid. I can publish them anytime I want.
Adrian Monk: What kind of man are you?
Dexter Larsen: I told you on the golf course, Mr. Monk. I do not lose. Now Sharona, she has a son, how old is he now?
Adrian Monk: He is twelve.
Dexter Larsen: Twelve. That's an impressionable age. I think we understand each other, don't we? Any more questions about what happened to Elliott?
Adrian Monk: No.
Dexter Larsen: You can let yourself out.

[Monk is trying to get a man at a homeless shelter to have gravy, because everyone else is.]
Sharona: Adrian, he doesn't want any gravy!
Monk: Let the man speak for himself.
Man: I don't want any gravy!

[Monk is trying to use Sharona to reenact the crime scene, but Sharona is getting confused by Monk's directions]
Adrian Monk: You... you enter from the right...
Sharona Fleming: You mean the left. That's stage left.
Adrian Monk: But it's on the right.
Sharona Fleming: But it's stage left. That's what they call it.
[She shrugs at Monk's confusion.]
Sharona Fleming: My sister's an actress!
Adrian Monk: But- but- for the purposes of this recreation, let's just call it what they call it on Planet Earth.
Sharona Fleming: [sardonically] Like you would know.

[Monk is unhappy with the annoying clown during the summation]
Adrian Monk: Everyone just accepted the fact that your foot was broken. [Floppy sticks up his oversized shoe and flips it back, pretending to be in pain] What is your problem?!
Captain Leland Stottlemeyer: Hey, clown! Take a walk!

[Monk jumps on top of the dining table to avoid a snake.]
Stottlemeyer: I thought you were afraid of heights.
Monk: Snakes trump heights. It goes: germs, needles, milk, death, snakes, mushrooms, heights, crowds, elevators...
Stottlemeyer: Okay, okay -- I don't need the entire list.

[Monk looks at one of Brian Babbage's magazines]
Adrian Monk: He was looking for a lawyer.
Sharona Fleming: That's no surprise. He was suing his whole family.
Adrian Monk: No, no, no. These are criminal lawyers. Look at the name he circled: �Scott Butterworth��.
Sharona Fleming: I know that name.
Adrian Monk: "Suspended twice." He was a hack. Brian Babbage could afford any attorney in town. Why would��why would anyone want to hire a bad lawyer?

[Monk meets Sharona's mother after being told several white lies]
Adrian Monk: Mrs. Fleming.
Cheryl Fleming: Oh, no. Call me Cheryl.
Adrian Monk: Wipe?
Sharona Fleming: Not now.
Cheryl Fleming: Where's Benjy? I brought him a new baseball glove.
Sharona Fleming: Oh, he's not here. He's sleeping over at a friend's house.
Cheryl Fleming: You forgot I was coming, didn't you? No, that's all right. I understand. You're probably so excited about the show. So, how was it last night? Tell me everything. How was Gail? Were there any reviews?
Sharona Fleming: Hey, Ma, you know what? There's, there's something I've got to tell you.
Cheryl Fleming: What? A bad review?
Adrian Monk: Uh, you might wanna sit down, Cheryl.
Cheryl Fleming: Oh, no, I'm fine, I've been sittin' all day.
Sharona Fleming: Ma, you know what? I think it's best that we sit down.
Cheryl Fleming: Oh.
Sharona Fleming: Something happened last night at the show. [Sharona and Cheryl sit]
Cheryl Fleming: Okay.
Adrian Monk: There was a stabbing.
Cheryl Fleming: Oh, you mean, in the audience?
Adrian Monk: No, uh, no. Onstage, uh, during the show. The actor who was playing Burt was killed. Gail��stabbed him.
Cheryl Fleming: Oh, I know. I read the script.
Adrian Monk: No, no, Cheryl. He died.
Cheryl Fleming: Oh, I don't understand.
Sharona Fleming: Neither do we. Uh, the police think that she might have done it on purpose.
Adrian Monk: She's been arrested for murder in the second degree. There's a bail hearing tomorrow.
Cheryl Fleming: Gail?! [scoffs] No. I don't believe it. It's a mistake, right?
Adrian Monk: The police don't think so.
Cheryl Fleming: Well, they're wrong. Well, you're gonna help her, right? I mean, that's what you do. You're a couple of detectives, right?
Adrian Monk: Of course, we're going to help her. After all, we're��we're a couple of detectives. Right?
Sharona Fleming: Right.
Cheryl Fleming: Right.

[Monk refuses to reveal his intimacies with his late wife to his psychiatrist.]
Dr. Kroger: Adrian, we can talk about your sex life with Trudy or we can sing show tunes until this session is over. It's your choice.
[pause]
Monk: [singing] If ever would I leave you...
...
[Eventually, Monk stops singing. He looks at his watch and stares at Dr. Kroger for a while, then...]
Monk: [singing] If ever would I leave you...

[Monk solves a murder in France, just by reading the newspaper]
Captain Leland Stottlemeyer: Listen to this: this is "News from Around the World," Paris, France. There is an unsolved murder; a woman was found strangled, and both of her hands were cut off.
Sharona Fleming: Oh my God!
Lt. Randall Disher: That happens all the time: no fingerprints. Makes it harder to ID the body.
Captain Leland Stottlemeyer: Now here's the thing: they found the hands. They were a couple of meters away from the body in the grass.
Adrian Monk: The killer cut off both hands, but then left them near the body?
Captain Leland Stottlemeyer: Yeah. She and her husband both worked as curators at the prison museum in the Bastille.
Adrian Monk: Prison museum?
[cuts to a Paris police prefecture. A police lieutenant comes into his captain's office]
Lieutenant Lafitte: [in French] Captain Dupres, there is a detective calling from America. He has solved the murder of Madame Beaudreau.
Captain Dupres: [in French] He solved it?
Lieutenant Lafitte: [in French] By reading a newspaper, from 9,000 kilometers away! [Dupres sighs and picks up the phone]
Captain Dupres: Captain Dupres, Prefecture de Police. [cuts to Monk's apartment]
Captain Leland Stottlemeyer: Bonjour. Je m'appelle Captain Leland Stottlemeyer. Je travaille avec le department de police de San Francisco. Uhhhh, parlez vous English? ["Hello, my name is Captain Leland Stottlemeyer. I work for the department of police of San Francisco. Do you speak English"]
Captain Dupres: I speak enough. What can I do for you?
Captain Leland Stottlemeyer: Uh, hi, I've got a friend. His name is Adrian Monk.
Adrian Monk: [into the phone] Bonjour.
Captain Leland Stottlemeyer: He has a theory about an unsolved case of yours. Here, I'll put him on. [hands the phone to Monk] He speaks English well enough. [Monk wipes down the phone, pressing several of the other buttons]
Adrian Monk: Yes, yse, hello. I think I know who killed Madame Beaudreau.
Captain Dupres: [skeptically] Oui, Monsieur Monk, what is your theory?
Adrian Monk: I think her husband did it.
Captain Dupres: Well, we suspected him from the beginning. But why did he cut off her hands?
Adrian Monk: He must have used a pair of handcuffs from the museum to restrain her.
Captain Dupres: I do not follow you.
Adrian Monk: They were antique handcuffs, very distinctive, so they could easily have been traced back to him.
Captain Dupres: Mon Dieu...
Adrian Monk: He must have lost the key. So he was desperate, he had to get them off the body.
Captain Dupres: Well, that makes sense! Lafitte, why didn't I think of that? Monsieur Monk, you are a genius! Perhaps someday, you will come to Paris so I can thank you in person.

[Monk solves the case, and brings a videotape to prove his theory.]
Monk: Can I make a prediction here? You're each going to say, "Oh, my God" twice.
Sharona: Okay, here it is!
Monk: Don't blink.
[They watch the video.]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, my God.
Lt. Disher: Oh, my God!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, my...
Lt. Disher: Oh, my God!
Monk: [off Stottlemeyer's look] My God.

[Monk solves the case]
Adrian Monk: Oh, my God. I think I know what happened here. Sharona, you're not going to like this. Just-just try to keep an open mind, hear me out...
Sharona Fleming: [sadly] He did it, didn't he?