Sex and the City Quotes: Season 1


Carrie: Welcome to the age of un-innocence. No one has breakfast at Tiffany's and no one has affairs to remember.

Carrie: Samantha had the kind of deluded self confidence that caused men like Ross Perot to run for president.



Carrie: Modelizers are obsessed not with women but with models, who in most cities are safely confined to billboards and magazines, but in Manhattan actually run wild on the streets, turning the city into a virtual model country safari where men can pet the creatures in their natural habitat.

Charlotte: In some cultures, heavy women with mustaches are considered beautiful.
Samatha: And you're looking at me while you're saying that?

Miranda: When did all the men get together and decide that they were only going to get it up for giraffes with big breasts?

Charlotte: I just know no matter how good I feel about myself, if I see Christy Turlington, I just want to give up!
Miranda: Well, I just want to tie her down and force-feed her lard, but that's the difference between you and me.

Samantha: I happen to love the way I look.
Miranda: You should. You paid enough for it.

Nick Waxler, Modelizer: Why fuck the girl in the skirt if you can fuck the girl in the ad for the skirt?

Nick Waxler, Modelizer: My friends think I'm shallow. Sometimes I think they're right. Other times I think, hey—I'm fucking a model.

Stanford: Oh my God, look at him. It's like he travels with his own personal lighting director.

Carrie: I thought I had come to terms with my looks the year I turned thirty, when I realized I no longer had the energy to be completely superficial.

Carrie: I began to realize that being beautiful is like having a rent-controlled apartment overlooking the park: completely unfair and usually bestowed upon those who deserve it least.

Carrie: I take that back. Beauty is fleeting, but a rent-controlled apartment overlooking the park is forever.



Carrie: Charlotte treated marriage like a sorority she was desperately hoping to pledge.

Carrie: He was like the flesh and blood equivalent of a DKNY dress: you know it's not your style but it's right there, so you try it on anyway.

Carrie: Everywhere I looked, people were standing in two's. It was like Noah's upper west side rent-controlled ark.



Carrie: Sometimes you need a second opinion. With doctors, real estate... men...

Carrie: Men in their forties are like the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle: tricky, complicated, and you're never really sure you got the right answer.

Carrie: If you keep talking like that I'm going to have to charge you by the minute.

Sales guy to Carrie and Twenty-Something Sam, who were making out in a Banana Republic dressing room: Please. This isn't the Gap.

Cab Driver: No! No smoking in cab!
Carrie: Sir, we're talking up the butt. A cigarette is in order.

Samantha: All I'm saying, that this is—this is a physical expression that the body was, well, it was designed to experience. And P.S., it's fabulous.
Charlotte: What are you talking about??? I went to Smith!!

Carrie: Why don't you two have a guy's night. You know... talk, cry, shoot bear...

Carrie: Meanwhile, uptown, Charlotte wondered when relationships had gotten so complicated. She yearned for the time when dinner was followed by dessert, not lubricant.

Charlotte: I'm afraid if I don't, you'll dump me, and if I do, then I'll be the up-the-butt girl. And I don't want to be the up-the-butt girl because, I mean, men don't marry the up-the-butt girl. Who's ever heard of Mrs. Up-The-Butt?



Carrie: We had such a fantastic connection. Then he leaves me money. I don't understand. What exactly about me screams "whore"?
Miranda: Besides the thousand dollars on the end table?

Samantha: Money is power. Sex is power. Therefore, getting money for sex is simply an exchange of power.
Miranda: Don't listen to the dimestore Camille Paglia.



Samantha on The Rules: The women who wrote that book—they wrote it because they couldn't get laid, so they constructed this whole bullshit theory to make women who can get laid feel bad.

Carrie: I will not be the first one to speak. And if he never calls me again, I'll always think of him fondly. As an asshole.

Samantha: Don't worry, sweetie, don't worry! Nobody in New York notices a bus until it's about to hit them!



Miranda (to Charlotte): Are you telling me you never perform this act?
Carrie: She'll juggle, she'll spin plates but she won't give head.

Random woman: Monogamy is fabulous. It gives you a deep and profound connection with another human being, and you don't have to shave your legs as much.

Carrie: Come on, you wouldn't commit to a nice guy, given the chance?
Stanford: I can't even commit to a long distance carrier.



Carrie: The closest Charlotte had ever come to getting screwed on a plane was the time she lost all her luggage on a flight to Palm Beach.

Carrie: Charlotte hadn't been that excited since she tried on her JV cheerleading uniform for the first time.

Charlotte: Jack says that I have a fire inside me.
Carrie: You tell him they make a cream for that.

Ken: It's over! I told my wife [about us]!
Samantha: Who is this?



Miranda: Wow! A guy who doesn't want to get married! Film at eleven!

Carrie: I'm not going to replace a man with some battery-operated device.
Miranda: You haven't met The Rabbit.
Samantha: Oh come on, if you're going to get a vibrator, at least get one called The Horse.

Samantha (about the Turtle): Once we get the breath under control, I'm going to take him shopping for a whole new wardrobe. He's a cute little fixer-upper!
Carrie: Sweetheart, he's a man, not a brownstone.

Carrie: I just love Sleeping Beauty! The music, the sets, the costumes. It's so romantic!
Stanford: You only like it because she sleeps for a hundred years and doesn't age.

Sanford: It's so brutal out there. Even guys like me don't want guys like me. I just don't have that gay look.
Carrie: I dunno, you look pretty gay to me. C'mon, maybe it's just a phase.
Stanford: Puberty is a phase. Fifteen years of rejection is a lifestyle.

Carrie: My Zen teacher also said: the only way to true happiness is to live in the moment and not worry about the future. Of course, he died penniless and single.



Samantha: Frankly, I think it's sad, the way she's using a child to validate her existence.
Carrie: Exactly. Why can't she just use sex and a nice cocktail like the rest of us?

Samantha: So help me—she fucks on my couch, she buys it.
Carrie: Isn't that how you got the couch from me?

Samantha, watching Lanie strip at a party: Look at her: the poster girl for low self esteem.
Miranda: You know, I have low self esteem, but I express it the healthy way—by eating a box of Double Stuf Oreos.

Miranda: So all I have to do to meet the ideal man is to give birth to him.

Carrie: There's a woman in there breastfeeding a child who can chew steak.
Miranda: You know how I feel about that. If you can ask for it, you're probably too old for it.

Miranda: Maybe it's maturity or the wisdom that comes with age, but the witch in Hansel and Gretel—she's very misunderstood. I mean, the woman builds her dream house and these brats come along and start eating it.

Carrie, buying a pregnancy test: Which kind do I get?
Miranda: Here. This one's on sale: half off.
Carrie: I just spent $395 on a pair of open-toed Guccis last week. This is not the place to be frugal.



Carrie: New York City is all about sex. People getting it, people trying to get it, people who can't get it. No wonder the city never sleeps. It's too busy trying to get laid.

Carrie: There are 1.3 million single men in New York, 1.8 million single women, and of these more than 3 million people, about 12 think they're having enough sex.

Woman on the street: They say the average 33-year-old woman has sex 3.5 times a week. I'd like to know who that woman is.

Miranda: You farted! You're human!
Carrie: I don't want him to know that!

Samantha: Normal is the halfway point between what you want and what you can get.

Samantha: Men aren't that complicated. They're kind of like plants.



Carrie, seeing Mr. Big leaving church with his mother: There he was, wearing Armani on a Sunday: Mr. Big. I'll admit it was a bit of a shock. Up until that moment I thought he only believed in the Yankees.

Charlotte: So, which church does his mother go to?
Carrie: Park Avenue Presbyterian.
Charlotte: Good church! It's one of the best on the east side!
Carrie: What, are you rating churches? Is there a Zagat guide for that?
Miranda: Four stars. Great bread; disappointing wine selection.

Charlotte: Is he a good kisser?
Samantha (crying): Oh, who the fuck cares? His dick is like a gherkin.


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