xoxo.

Blair: We've seen you with vomit and hanging out with investment bankers in the men's room of PJ Clarke's. You don't have to hide anything from us.
Nate: She's right Serena. None of us are saints.
Blair: Yeah, I had sex with him in the back of a limo.
Chuck: Several times.
Nate: I had sex with you at a wedding. Once.
Chuck: I'm Chuck Bass.

Chuck: I love it when you talk dirty.
Serena: You just love it when a girl talks to you.
Chuck: Actually I prefer it when they're not talking.
Serena: Hm. I've missed your witty banter.

Nate: What, 'cause you kill people now? You gonna strangle him with your scarf?
Chuck: Don't mock the scarf, Nathaniel. It's my signature.
Nate: I'm just saying: death by scarf. Not that intimidating.

Blair: You don't grant birthday wishes, do you?
Priest: I'm a priest, not a genie.

Nate: What are you doing here?
Blair: Your mom let me in.
Nate: I didn't ask how you got in, I asked why you came.

Blair: You sound like a jealous boyfriend.
Chuck: Yeah right. You wish.
Blair: No. You wish.
Chuck: Please. You forget who you're talking to.
Blair: So do you. Do you... like me?
Chuck: Define like.
Blair: You have got to be kidding. I do not believe this.
Chuck: How do you think I feel? I haven't slept. I feel sick, like there's something in my stomach. Fluttering.
Blair: Butterflies? Oh no no no. This is not happening.
Chuck: No one is more surprised or ashamed than I am.
Blair: Chuck. You know that I adore all of God’s creatures and the metaphors that they inspire. But, those butterflies? Have got to be murdered.

Chuck: 12:01. I'm sorry.
Blair: No. You're smarmy. There's a difference.

Blair: I'm not in the mood, Chuck. This is pretty much the worst birthday ever.
Chuck: Maybe it can be salvaged.
Blair: What is that, our sex tape?
Chuck: I really am sorry.

Oh let's get addicted

x