Garrett: "That's all. Simply the two-word concept medical records. That's all I'm giving you today. It should keep you chasing your tail for a..."
Spencer: "Are you talking about Alison's medical records? Jenna's medical records?"
Garrett: "There she goes! Now you'll arrive at an oddly unconnected conclusion..."
Spencer: "Are you saying that Jenna is no longer blind?"
Hanna: "[Gossip about Noel Kahn.]"
Mona: (Still unresponsive. Somehow.)
Hanna: "Okay, you fuckin' know what, Mona? I have just about had it with your crazy person routine. Pull it together."
Hanna, verbatim: "If I told the police that you mowed me down with your car, you would not be here getting a slice of peach pie every day to wash down your meds. You'd be sharing a jail cell with someone calling you Peach Pie, while you braid her back hair!"
Mona, silently: "That's all I ever wanted. For you to call me Peach Pie, while I braid your back hair. Or to hollow out your body and drive it around town like a tiny car. But no, you were too busy with your werewolves and your gay Christians and your non-adrenalized Muggle hyporeality."
Hanna goes on a tear! Throwin' chairs and callin' her out, all, "You have made! My life! A nightmare!" Mona is unresponsive. Hanna is devoid of jubilation. Wren, on the other hand, is very responsive, and yanks Hanna out of there like she was smoking weed.
Wren: "Throwing chairs at the patients is not recognized as a therapeutic protocol!"
Emily: "Hello, Mr. Fitz."
Ezra: "Can I get you something? A cup of coffee? Coffee with brandy? An Amber Alert?"
Emily: "No, Mr. Fitz. Just knowledge."
Ezra: "I'm sorry about your dead girlfriend, by the way. As the December in my own relationship, I'm sure she was very attracted to your nubile young body and dewy, awakening sexuality."
Emily: "I am coping with Maya's death through my burgeoning alcoholism. I am also distracted from grief by the fact that I keep getting kidnapped and then repressing the memories of being kidnapped. But like, thanks."