Miranda: I said no white, no ivory, no nothing that says virgin. I have a child. The jig is up

Miranda: Tell me what you're talking about.
Samantha: I'll tell you tomorrow. I don't want to ruin your special day.
Miranda: Forget about my special fucking day and be normal, please, I beg of you!
Samantha: I have breast cancer.
Miranda: What?
Samantha: See? Now it's my special fucking day.

Carrie: How about I read you a little bit of my favorite poetry?
Aleksandr: Please.
Carrie: [Reads from Vogue] "Cocktails at Tiffanys calls for classic charm. Oscar de la Renta sleeveless silk full skirted dress with black patent leather bow belt." Now that is pure poetry.

Charlotte: Well, it all sounds very old world to me. Very 18th century Russia.
Carrie: Yes, and I live in New York City circa now. I think it's romantic when someone offers me a seat on the subway.

Charlotte: I can't believe you would actually consider having a boob job.
Miranda: I can't believe you went to Planet Hollywood.