Lois: About time you got home. Shelby's great and all, but the conversation... a little one-sided.
Clark: Shouldn't you be riding a mechanical bull somewhere? It is Friday night.
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Clark: I hope I have enough detergent. How do you even have anything left to wear?
Lois: You know, most guys wouldn't complain if I suddenly found myself shirtless.
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Lois: Are you like this at the movie theater, too, Clark? I mean, these concession runs are sweet, but you're up and down more often than the Cubs' batting lineup.
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Lois: How does a guy with nine phone numbers not return a phone call?
Clark: Probably just celebrating with someone else.
Lois: Wow. Tall, dark, and single. Go figure.
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Lois: Pants on, Birthday Boy. Party train's arrived.
Clark: Lois, I think people would prefer "knock" over "pants on."
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Clark: Oliver was watching this on his laptop. It's a long story about Lois and laundry and lacy things.
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Chloe: You were living like you had a death wish, Oliver. You had to face your demons if you were ever going to make it out alive. And I had to push you over the ledge in order to pull you back.
Oliver: Did you have to push with a 3-ton truck?
Chloe: I didn't think a tricycle would be a strong enough point.
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Oliver: You saved my life, Chloe. Both the myth... and the man.
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Lois: So... what was that about?
Oliver: Uh-oh. I've seen that look before, usually right before you sock me in the jaw.
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Clark: I heard you were back.
Oliver: You do know, of course, you look absolute ridiculous in that, right? And I got a great tailor, hook you up with a little color, maybe.
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Oliver: You've done a hell of a job keeping the world safe on your own, Clark. I'm here to help you now.
Clark: Good. Something tells me... soon the world will need all the help we can get.
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