Dwight: If you're ever in the area, you'll always have a place to stay...in my barn.
Jim: There it is.

Dwight: I can't believe you came.
Michael: That's what she said.

Jim: I think it's time for you to bury the hatchet.
Dwight: Waste of a good hatchet.

I never thought I'd say this, but I think I ate too much bone marrow.

Angela: The only people that need to be there are you and me.
Dwight: Oh and the old man to feed us the cheese that he's been fermenting since the day of my birth. You keep forgetting about him.

Dwight: You're a good assistant Jim.
Jim: Not as good as you.
Dwight: That's very true. Get the hell out of here.

Dwight: We're third cousins, which is great for bloodlines and isn't technically incest.
Jim: Right in the sweet spot.

The two of you would move to my 16 hundred acre estate, which let's face it, is a big step up from living in a gay man's closet.

Anyone who needs to speak to me has gotta go through me first.

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