Dr. Ross Geller

Rust is boat cancer, Ross.

How you gonna run after him with one leg shorter than the other?

Except that I could pick your father up and say, "Like me. Like me, tiny doctor."

Please. He refers to me as "Wet-Head."

Question: Was, uh, "Egg the Gellers" the war cry of your neighborhood?

Thanks for dinner last night.

...nobody is allowed to climb on the dinosaur.

I tip way too much, way, way too much.

You think I'm cheap?

Yeah, actually, Daddy, Ross is allergic to lobster.

What kind of person's allergic to lobster?

- Sweetie, it's hopeless. I'm just gonna go. - What? Ross.

...and land on a bicycle with no seat, so...

Okay, that's it. I can't take it anymore.

Thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson.

It was a joke. I made a joke.

Well, "Mr. Big-Shot" is better than "Wet-Head."

I'm supposed to, um, fall off the Empire State Building...

But of course, this went right in one ear...

I wish she was my wife.

And I'm appalled for you, by the way.

Um, I have... I have a problem.

When I was a kid, I lost a bike to that. Ha, ha.

- Well, that's his last name. - And his first name.

You've gotta face it. We're never gonna get along.