Dwight: Jim is gone. He's gone. I miss him so much. I cry myself to sleep. False. I do not miss him.
Michael: You don't call retarded people "retards." It's bad taste. You call your friends "retards" when they're acting retarded.
Michael: I have been calling people "faggy" since I was in junior high and I have never made this mistake. If I don't know how to behave, it is because I am just so far the opposite way, you know.
Jim: I can't say whether Dunder-Mifflin paper is less flammable, sir, but I can assure you that it is certainly not more flammable.
Karen: Jim's nice enough, but I don't know how well he's fitting in here. He's always looking at the camera like this. What is that?
Dwight: Jim told me you could buy gaydar online.
Kelly: It is so cool that you're gay. I totally underestimated you.
Oscar: Yes, I am super-cool. I am an accountant at a failing paper supply company. In Scranton. Much like Sir Ian McKellan.
Andy: I need to know who put my calculator in Jell-O or I'm going to lose my freakin'mind!
Michael: I think Angela might be gay. Could Oscar and Angela be having a gay affair?
Creed: In the 60s I made love to many, many women, often outdoors in the mud and the rain. And it's possible a man slipped in. There would be no way of knowing.
Michael: Who should be the judges and juries of our society?
Angela: Judges and juries.
Phyllis: We all thought you were gay in high school, what with your ties and your matching socks.
Michael: I'm going to raise the stakes. I want you to watch this, and I want you to burn this into your brains. Because this is an image that I want you people to remember for a long time to come.
Michael: Oh, there's Gil, Oscar's roommate. I wonder if he knows.
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