Monk

Marty: (looking into the sack of dog poo) You can't throw this away. This--this is evidence.

Marty: Monk, Monk, sit. Sit anywhere. Monk: That's okay. I'm not fine. Marty: (to Natalie) Did he just say he's not fine? Natalie: Yes.

Disher: What happened? Marty: Well, it's kind of embarrassing. I got hit very hard by a client--hit me very hard. Yeah. I--I was supposed to follow his wife and take pictures. Stottlemeyer: (looking at a photograph) Whoa! She was cheating on him. Marty: No, no. that's him. That's my client. Natalie: You burst in and took a picture of a man in bed with his own wife?

Stottlemeyer: Monk, sometimes when you're picking up clues, it seems like magic to me. Maybe he's doing something that--that you don't understand. Monk: I think he's cheating. He's a cheater. Stottlemeyer: This isn't the fourth grade, Monk. Monk: He's cheating! Stottlemeyer: How? Monk: I don't know.

Disher: Feels weird, huh? Maybe we should send one of them home. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, but which one?

Reporter: So your son is helping Adrian Monk? Mrs. Eels: Who's helping who? That's the question.

Monk: What are you doing? Marty: Mud. You can tell where the car has been. Monk: From tasting it? He's tasting it! Natalie: Will that work? Monk: No! It's nuts!

Marty: He was trying to tell us the name of the man who killed him. Look. He's pointing to his watch. Monk: No. He's not, Captain. Marty: Are there any perps who'd do a job like this by the name of--Casio?

Stottlemeyer: Monk, why don't you stay here? We're gonna let Marty take this one. Natalie: Wait, wait, wait! You're firing him? Stottlemeyer: No,no. Um, it's just that Marty seems to be in the zone. He's got a handle on this one. You get the next one, okay? I'll call you. I've gotta go.

Monk: Tell me about this [Dr.] Lowenstein. Dr. Kroger: Lowenstern. I could introduce you. Office right across the street. He charges four hundred dollars an hour. Monk: Where--where were you?

Monk: I think I would make a very good teacher. Natalie: Mr. Monk, you'd make a terrible teacher! It would take you four weeks to correct one paper.

Natalie: (Laughs.) You're going to take a taxi? Do you know what people do in taxis?

Natalie: Mr. Monk, Fulton College is one hundred miles away. It is up the interstate. It's over a bridge. Monk: No. I have a blindfold for going over bridges. Natalie: You'll be driving. Monk: Good point. I think I can make it if I just sort of peek underneath.

Marty: Thud. Clang. Thud. Clang. Thud. Clang. Monk: Marty, I've got "thud, clang."