Jim Halpert: Hey, you know what, Dwight? Maybe we should get our photo ID taken together.
Dwight Schrute: That doesn't make any sense.
Jim Halpert: Well, it saves time, you know. 'Cause we could just meet in the parking lot every morning, walk in together. Perfect.
The Photographer: Smile.
Dwight Schrute: No.
[He stares right at camera as photographer takes the picture. To film crew]
Dwight Schrute: 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.
Jim Halpert: This came out really well. There you go.
Dwight Schrute: This is humongous. I am not a security threat. And my middle name is Kurt, not fart.
Jim Halpert: What did I write?
[Dwight walks away while Jim smiles at camera]
Dwight Schrute: 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 60 pounds per square inch. Can you imagine if I was deranged?
Michael Scott: Well, that's not gonna fly here, because in this office, it is till death do us part. Assuming that we don't get downsized.
Michael Scott: Cage matches? Yeah, they work. How could they not work? If they didn't work, everybody would still be in the cage.
Michael Scott: Here is a Kelly complaint. Ryan never returns my calls. Ah, join the club.
Michael Scott: Okay. So this is the disputed poster. Now, one at a time, I want you to express your feelings, using "I" emotion language, and no judging or "you" statements.
Angela: I got this poster for Christmas and I feel I want to see it every day. It makes me feel like the babies are the true artists, and God has a really cute sense of humor.
Michael Scott: Come on. Seriously, that?
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 hard-core porn.
Michael Scott: Okay. Ryan, you told Toby that Creed has a distinct old man smell?
Creed: [to film 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.
Michael Scott: [Reading past complaints that Dwight had made about Jim] "Every time I typed my name, it said diapers."