The Office

Michael: Cage matches? Yeah, they work. How could they not work? If they didn't work, everybody would still be in the cage.

Michael: Wow! I never thought Dwight would go postal. It's always the person you least expect, and I always thought Dwight would go postal.

Michael: (Reading past complaints that Dwight had made about Jim) Every time I typed my name it said "diapers".

Michael: (reading one of Dwight's complaints) "By the end of the day, my desk was two feet closer to the photocopier." Jim: (to camera) I moved his desk like, an inch, every time he went to the bathroom. And that's how I spent my entire day.

(referring to all the pranks he's pulled on Dwight) Jim: (to camera) These don't sound that funny, one after the other... but he totally deserves it. Honestly.

Michael: (reading Dwight's complaint out loud to Jim and Dwight) Everyone has called me Dwayne all day. I think Jim Halpert paid them to... Jim: (to the camera) Ha, ha, yes! Five bucks each and it was totally worth it!

Michael: (reading Dwight's complaint out loud for Jim and Dwight) This morning I found a bloody glove in my desk drawer and Jim Halpert tried to convince me I'd committed murder. I think maybe he's the real murderer…

Dwight: I never smile if I can help it.... Showing one's teeth is a submission signal in primates. When someone smiles at me, all I see is a chimpanzee begging for its life.

Oscar: I'd say if Jesus saw that, he'd freak out! He'd freak out, Toby!

Toby: Every Friday at 4, I have a standing appointment with Dwight for him to file a grievance against Jim. I tell him that I'm sending them to a special file in New York. That box is the special file in New York.

Michael: And also, Phyllis, Stanley says that you cry too much and that bugs him. Phyllis: Stanley and I are close, too. Stanley: We sit close.

Pam: Hey, thanks for ratting me out. Angela: I didn't do it! Pam: I find that hard to believe considering you have problems with every single person in this entire office except Bobblehead Joe.

Michael: How about the Phyllis/Angela dispute. Angela: You already did me. Michael: (with Jim mouthing the words to the camera) That's what she said.

Creed:(to camera crew) I know exactly what he's talking about. I sprout mung beans on a damp paper towel in my desk drawer, very nutritious but they smell like death.

Dwight: I am not a security threat, and my middle name is Kurt, not Fart.

Michael: Kevin, you are accused of making sexually suggestive remarks to Angela that make her uncomfortable. Solution: Angela, you are to make sexually suggestive remarks to Kevin that make him uncomfortable. Kevin: I accept your decision.

Michael: Hey! Wait. How about a group picture while you're here? Photographer: I can't. I only get reimbursed for the ID photos. Michael: Well, it's a computer camera, right? Photographer: You mean "digital"?

Michael: Someone complained that the men's room is whites only. Stanley, you know that's not true. Stanley: I didn't say that. Creed: Then why is there a picture of a white man on the door?

Michael: Here is a Kelly complaint. "Ryan never returns my calls." Well, join the club.

Pam: I have this kind of big secret about Angela. And I've been really nice to her and I haven't told anyone and...what the hell?

Michael: Let's see if we can't just brainstorm and find some creative alternatives that are win-win. Pam: Win. Michael: Yes. Thank you, Pam. How about Angela makes the poster into a t-shirt which Oscar wears. That way he can never see it, and whenever she looks at Oscar she can see it. Win-win-win.

Michael: (to Toby) What do you know about conflict resolution? Your answer to everything is get divorced.

Michael: This is from Kevin. He says Stanley uses his Miracle Whip without asking. Meredith complains that everyone talks too loud in the morning and the lights are too bright. Creed...Creed is sick of looking at the redhead all day and wants a seat facing the receptionist. Pam: Nice.

Oscar: I don't like looking at it. It's creepy and in bad taste and it's just offensive to me. It makes me think of the horrible frigid stage mothers who forced the babies into it. It's kitsch. It's the opposite of art. It destroys art. It destroys souls. This is so much more offensive to me than hardcore porno.

Michael: That's a nice tie. Ryan: Thank you. Michael: That is...who makes that? Ryan: Um...I don't... Michael: Do you mind if I wear that for the photo? Ryan: Um...let's um...let's keep our own clothes.

Dwight: ID badges are long overdue. Security in this office park is a joke. Last year, I came to work with my spud gun in a duffel bag. I sat at my desk all day with a rifle that shoots potatoes at sixty pounds per square inch. Can you imagine if I was deranged?