Kevin: Single White Male seeks commuter on train to share intimate secrets.

Eric: You're like the poster boy for the romantically challenged!

Kevin: C'mon, Lucille, don't die on me now. Listen, daddy knows you're tired, but daddy knows that got a few left in you. Yes you do! Yes you do!

Rod: Kevin sits silently still in the dead of the day, wondering if he finds that girl that just walked away. Was it something he said, or something he did? Did the words not come out right? He didn't try to get the digits, he didn't try, but I guess that's they say why they say, Kevin crapped out on his own, but his friends would have helped him all along.

Kevin: It all started because of a girl at a party. Spring, 1994, that was our band, Granite. We were all about the rock.

Kevin: And this was the moment. My big moment to impress the girl of my dreams.
Rod: Kev, I got a great idea.
Kevin: What?
Rod: Why don't we sing the ballad that I wrote, dedicate it to her, and when it's over just ask her out. What are you stupid? She's right there.

Kevin: I didn't do it. I just froze. My heart started pounding. My pits started sweating. I felt naked up there.

Rod: I can't believe it man. That story gets funnier every time I hear it.
Kevin: Yeah, thanks for the support.
Rod: Man, come on. You know what your problem is? I think it's the lack of self-confidence. I mean, I know you go out on dates and everything, but when you find the girl of your dreams, you can't seal the deal. You know? Pick the fruit, spit the wad, you know what I'm saying?
Kevin: No, I don't.
Little kid: I think what your friend is trying to say is, that you're suffering from a classic psychosomatic communative anxiety disorder. Basically, you meet the right girl, you choke.
Rod: That's what I'm saying.
Little kid: Dude, you got to relax. Watch me work. *goes over to lady* French fry? *smiles at them after she takes one*

Kevin: Ok, reebok. All right. We have two baby chickens and they both are wearing Reeboks. One is going Ree and the other is going bok. Ree - bok, ree - bok, ree - bok.
Jackie: That's moronic. Moronic, moronic.

Abbey: I can't get next to you.
Kevin: Excuse me?
Abbey: "I'm so tired of being alone" is a great Al Green song, but I can't get next to you seems a little more appropriate right now.
Kevin: Why is that?
Abbey: Because I can't get next to you. *points to bag*

Kevin: So tell me something that you would only tell a stranger?
Abbey: Ah...I like to make paper airplanes. My dad's a pilot.

Kevin: Ok, you'll totally think I'm lame. But I can name all the Presidents in order.

Abbey: Ok, I only think we're the only two people who can do that at the same time.

Kevin: It was a pleasure communting with you.
Abbey: Yeah, it really was. Well... bye.

Kevin: I tanked.
Randy: Again?
Eric: Man you need some help.

Kevin: You know it's embarrassing when everyone knows you as the guy who chokes.
Eric: Hey man, come on, not everyone knows that.

Eric: You can track her down.
Kevin: How?
Eric: I don't know. Low jack. You could um... ride the train everyday looking for her. You could put posters up all over town. I don't know.
Kevin: Yeah. "Single white male seeks commuter on train to share intimate secrets."
Eric: Yeah, bud, that's kind of cool, but I was thinking more like. "Dog who loses bone, seeks train tramp."

Abbey: We connected more in five minutes than I have with Paul in the past year.

Kevin: I didn't say anything. I didn't say anything. I know why. I know why. It's because I'm afraid to take a chance. It's because I'm afraid to take a chance. I'm sitting on the sidelines all my life. Why am I so scared? Always afraid to take a chance.

Eric: Hey dude, you don't look so good.
Randy: Really?
Eric: Yeah, really you usually look better.

Kevin: Pork happens.

Rod: What is wrong with the music industry today? Huh? He is not about the love, he is not about the passion. Dude, I am about the love.
Eric: And the passion.
Randy: and the odor.

Nathan: Way to go Romeo.

Eric: Oh my gosh, dude. What is this?
Randy: It's a hot dog.
Eric: Thanks.

Eric: So Kev, I beat you're wondering why we asked you to play barbeque ball this fine cold day in Chicago.
Kevin: Because I brought the food?

Randy: I'd like to put on my pink tutu and dance with your sheep.

Eric: I'm Kevin.
Abbey: No you're not.
Eric: Are you saying I'm not who I'm saying I am?
Abbey: Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying.
Eric: Hey, ehy, what's the problem?
Abbey: I knew you sounded different on the phone.

Rod: We're on the date. Met her at the bar, brought her to my apartment. All of a sudden, she points to me and says to me, "I wanna hear you play one of the songs you wrote." It was freaking great right. So I was like sure. So there I am. I started jamming. I'm jamming, I'm singing, I'm goin, I'm groovin, I'm rockin, I'm rollin, I'm going after the gravy. You know that signature move where I kick that amp? That's when it happened?
Eric: Dude, you broke her nose?
Rod: And her ankle.

Kevin: I saw her.
Eric: Where? When? I mean, you did.
Kevin: Yep.
Eric: Well, what happened?
Kevin: She blew me off.
Eric: Oh man. That is bad.
Kevin: You know, it doewsn't surprise me though. After all the articles in the paper. But the thing I don't understand, why didn't she call in the first place.
Eric: Kev, she did call.
Kevin: What?
Eric: Yeah, we sort of went out on a date.
Kevin: Wait a minute, she called. You took her out and you didn't tell me?

Ad: "L" Train girl: I'm sorry. Please meet me at our stop, Friday 7 pm. Kevin.

Eric: You know, sometimes you gotta let 'em go and hope you raised them well.

Kevin: Two questions. What is your name and can I please have your phone number.
Abbey: Abbey and I thought you'd never ask.

Angelo: Nsync.
Make up artist (Justin): Yeah, more like Nstink.
Angelo: You can't say that.
Make up artist (Justin): I did. I don't care.

Make up artist (Justin): But seriously, Joey is one thing, but Lance?

Lance: I loved you from the minute I saw you on the L.
Make up artist (Justin): That was very convincing.

Angelo: Joey, I have two words for you. You are this generations Marlon Brando.

Make up artist (Justin): Lance I have three words for you. De-knee-row. Know what I'm saying?