Carrie: Your girl is lovely, Hubbell.
Mr. Big: I don't get it.
Carrie: And you never will.
Miranda: Do any of you have a completely unremarkable friend or maybe a houseplant I could go to dinner with on Saturday night?
Miranda: I made him cry. No, first I yelled at him - I yelled at my friend the cancer patient - then I made him cry.
Carrie: Yes, we'd love to meet Wesley of Wesley and Leslie. And by the way, does he work at Nestle?
Carrie: Miranda was a huge fan of the Yankees. I was a huge fan of being anywhere you could smoke and drink at two in the afternoon without judgment.
Charlotte: In some cultures, heavy women with mustaches are considered beautiful.
Samantha: And you're looking at me while you're saying that?
Charlotte: I just know no matter how good I feel about myself, if I see Christy Turlington, I just want to give up!
Miranda: Well, I just want to tie her down and force-feed her lard, but that's the difference between you and me.
Carrie: There's a woman in there breastfeeding a child who can chew steak.
Miranda: You know how I feel about that. If you can ask for it, you're probably too old for it.
Carrie: Sports night: every female's fantasy. A room full of captive heterosexual men all looking to be distracted during commercial breaks.
Carrie: It's a pattern.
Samantha: I don't have a pattern.
Carrie: In math, randomness is considered a pattern.
Samantha: Yes, and I'm what they call a prime number.
Charlotte: I can't believe you're dating a politician. You're not even registered to vote!
Carrie: It's the undecideds they're really after.
Carrie: There are very few things this New Yorker loves as much as Sunday brunch. You can sleep until noon and still get eggs anywhere in the city, alcohol is often included with the meal, and Sunday is the one day a week you get the single woman's sports pages: the New York Times wedding section.
Miranda: I do not want <a baby> eventually and my clock is running out... I mean, I've only got like a million viable eggs left.
Carrie: Three hundred of which we just killed with those martinis at lunch.
Mr. Big: Hey, have you got a light?
Carrie: I quit.
Mr. Big: Aw, we always used to share a cigarette together.
Carrie: We did a lot of things that were bad for me together.