His little pellets, nay, pearls of wisdom keep us amused every Tuesday, nay, We-eh-eh-ednesday night. I though we should all learn from them :) More here.
[to an annoying patient]
Dr. Cox: Okay, think of what little patience I have as, oh, I don't know, your virginity. You always thought it would be there, until that night Junior Year when you were feeling a little down about yourself and your pal Kevin, who just wanted to be friends, well, he dropped by and he brought a copy of About Last Night and a four-pack of Bartels & James and woo hoo hoo, it was gone forever - just like my patience is now.
Jill Tracy: So you do scary little speeches. How adorable.
Dr. Cox: ...And bam! The shine's off the apple. And that's when you find out that that pretty little girl you married isn't a pretty little girl at all. No, she's a man-eater. And I'm not talking about the "whoa-whoa, here she comes" kind of man-eater. I'm talking about the kind that uses your dignity as a dishtowel to wipe up any shreds of manhood that might be stuck inside the sink. Of course, I may have tormented her from time to time; but, honest to God, that's what I thought marriage was all about. So much so that, by the end of that relationship, I honestly don't know who I hated more - her or me? I used to sit around and wonder... why our friends weren't trying to destroy each other, like we were. And here, it turns out, the answer's pretty simple: They weren't unhappy. We were.
Dr. Cox: It's time. Sit down, and listen up Newbie. I suppose you want me to say you're great? That you've raised the bar for interns everywhere?
J.D.: I'm cool with that!
Dr. Cox: Well, I'm not going to say that. You're doing ok. Someday you might even be better than that. But right now, all I see is a guy who's so preoccupied with wondering what everyone else thinks about him, that he doesn't have anytime to think whether or not he believes in himself. DID YOU EVER WONDER WHY I TOLD YOU TO WRITE YOUR OWN EVALUATION?
J.D.: I don't have a safe answer for that. I just figured that... you...
Dr. Cox: Clam up Newbie! I wanted you to think about yourself... AND I MEAN REALLY THINK!... What are you good at? What do you suck at? And write it down. Not so I could read it, or anyone else could read it. BUT SO YOU COULD READ IT! You see in the end Newbie, you don't have to answer to me, or to Kelso, or even to your patients for Gods sake! The only one you have to answer to Newbie, is you! There, YOU ARE evaluated. Now get out of here, because you truely make me so damn mad I might just hurt myself!
Dr. Cox: You'd better go ahead and enjoy this while you can, Bob, because if your evil genie goes ahead and grants your wish and I'm gone forever, then the only one you're going to be able to contend with around here is yourself. And when you really get to know *that* person, oh, dear God, you'll scream so loud that Satan will want to tear up that contract he made with you at birth just so he can get some sleep.
Dr. Cox: You know, the only way you could be more useless right now is if you actually were the wall. Now, it certainly is true that you'd at least be serving a purpose - specifically a surface for a jackass to lean against - but it could be argued that this is more useless than doing nothing.
Dr. Cox: I know, it's a conundrum but don't you worry, I'll noodle it for you right here. Meanwhile, you just skip along, all right Shirley?
Dr. Cox: Ah, sorry to interrupt you there, Bobbo, but I gotta ask you a quick question. Now, when you were born, nay, *spawned* by the Dark Prince himself, did that rat bastard forget to give you a hug before he sent you along your way? Because you can't just let two good nurses go on account of feeling small and insignificant. And besides, with your money, you ought to be able to keep a little man tucked away in the closet, and bring him out whenever you wanna *knock* him around, huh?
[to the interns]
Dr. Cox: As you were.
Dr. Cox: You know, Bob, I've been thinking of all the times you manipulated me and toyed with me and I can't help but recall that children's fable about that race between the tortoise and the pain-in-the-ass-chief-of-medicine-that-everybody-hates. You see, Bob, the pain-in-the-ass-chief-of-medicine-that-everybody-hates kept running out in front of the tortoise and taunting him, but right at the end... oh, gosh I'm sure you remember what happened Bob, the tortoise bit clean through the Chief of Medicine's calf muscle, dragged him to the ground, where he and all the other turtles devoured him alive right there on the racetrack. It's a disturbing children's book, Bob, I know, but it's one that stuck with me nonetheless.
Dr. Kelso: Buzzy, buzz, buzz...
Dr. Cox: I... beg your pardon?
Dr. Kelso: Oh, uh, that's the sound of all the bees in your bonnet. And, Perry, even though I could give a rat's ass, I still think it's a pretty sound!
[an overweight patient has not been losing weight, despite Dr Cox's orders]
Dr. Cox: Lemme ask you a quick question: are you trying to make my head explode? Because you have no idea just how frustrating it is working your ass off trying to inflate a tiny little balloon inside somebody's clogged artery when all that person has to do, really is - oh, I don't know - go for a walk in the morning or choke down a fresh green salad. And you come back here looking like that? And, I know here, I know I'm supposed to be Dr. Give-A-Crap, but you wanna hear the God's honest truth? And this is a fact: you are what you eat. And you clearly went out and devoured a big fat guy, didn't ya?
Dr. Cox: Listen Vanessa Janice Tiffany Amber (in a sing-song voice)Thiessen. I'm gonna go ahead and give ya a little something I call Perry's Perspective. 1. If the guy in front of me in the coffee shop can't decide what he wants in the 30 minutes it takes for him to get to the register, I should be allowed to kill him. 2. I'm fairly sure that if they took all the porn off the Internet, there'd only be 1 website left, and it would be called Bring Back The Porn. 3rd, and most important, to be respected as a doctor, nay a man, you must me an ocean. You're born alone, you damn sure die alone, (looks over and speaks to a cadaver rolling by) isn't that right spike? My point is, and you may want to jot this down... only the weak need help.
J.D.: I should have that tattoed on my neck.