MARIA: You look like you got your heart stomped out. No, wait... that would be me. Well, if it's possible, you look worse.

MICHAEL: I don't know. She went out the window. I tried chasing her...
MARIA: But it's hard to run with your pants around your ankles?

MAX: Well, somehow the skins know that she's dead. None of us has said anything... unless it came from here.
LIZ: You mean, from me.

MICHAEL: So we agree.
MAX: Yeah.
MICHAEL: There's a first.

MARIA: Culture Club? Wham? The Backstreet Boys? God, she really is an alien, this one.

MARIA: Of course. Like she's gonna write her hideout in an address book, oh ho!
MICHAEL: Hey, are you just gonna rag on me or are you gonna help?

LOCAL: Uh, Friendship League's a members-only outfit. Very hush-hush. They don't like outsiders, especially with all the press around here these days.
ISABEL: Actually, we've been invited.

TESS: About what? All you did was sleep with him. How was he, anyway?
LIZ: Oh, I, um...I...we...it was great.
TESS: Noted.

MICHAEL: Ok, so now it's my fault.

MARIA: Yes. You know what? Just to make things simpler, from now on you should consider everything to be your fault, ok? Ok.

MICHAEL: No dice. She wouldn't do that. She's obsessed with me.
MARIA: Well, I guess that makes 2 of you, then, doesn't it?

MARIA: Oh, please! Do your lips not get chapped from all the ass-kissing?

COURTNEY: The point is, I've been a babe for 50 years. What are you gonna look like in 50 years from now?

Quote of the Week:

MARIA: Michael, if you can hear me now over the sound of your rapidly inflating ego, could you please tell me that you do not believe what this...this Michael-worshipper here has to say?