Stanford: [watching a runway-fallen Carrie get stepped over by Heidi Klum] Oh, my god, she's fashion roadkill!
Samantha: Last night I could not stop thinking about a Big Mac. I finally had to get dressed, go out and pick up a guy.
Stanford: [eyeing an attractive man at a club] Do you think he's a model?
Carrie: A model what? A model citizen? A model home? A model airplane?
Stanford: I think he's the dirty-haired Gucci guy - with clean hair.
Carrie: Why don't you go over and say hello?
Stanford: Oh, he's gorgeous. The only way I could get a guy like that interested in me, would be to pay him.
Carrie: Stanford, my love, there is no need for you to enter Hookerville.
Stanford: [dejected] Carrie - I *know* what I look like.
Carrie: Then you can't see what I see.
[kisses his cheek]
Carrie: Dolce and Gabanna picked me?
Fashion show producer: Yes, fuckette, and those are some picky Italians.
Carrie: When I first moved to New York and I was totally broke, sometimes I would buy Vogue instead of dinner. I felt it fed me more.