Chase: In pre-med, I had a professor who...
House: - touched you in the naughty place?

House: Show of hands: who thinks I'm not in my right mind? And who thinks I forget this very basic neurological fact? Who thinks there's a third option?
[Chase raises his hand]
House: Very good. What's the third choice?
Chase: No idea. You just asked if I thought there was one.

Chase: How'd you like it if I interfered in your personal life?
House: I'd hate it. That's why, cleverly, I have no personal life.

Chase: It doesn't necessarily have to be that bad. If we exclude the night terrors it could be something systemic: his liver, kidneys, something outside the brain.
House: Yes, feel free to exclude any symptom if it makes your job easier.

House: Get up. We're going hunting.
Chase: For what?
House: Wabbits.

House: You hate nuns. You can't hate someone if you don't know them.
Chase: Know any Nazis? Maybe I hate them on principle.

House: I assume 'minimal at best' is your stiff upper lip British way of saying "no chance in hell."
Chase: Actually, I'm Australian.
House: You put the Queen on your money, you're British.

Chase: I don't hate him. I loved him until I figured out it hurts a lot less to just not care. You don't expect him to turn up to your football match? No disappointments. You don't expect a call on your birthday, don't expect to see him for months? No disappointments. You want us to go make up? Sink a few beers together, nice family hug? I've given him enough hugs. He's given me enough disappointments.

House: You haven't told Robert. You don't want to burden him because you were such a lousy dad.
Rowan Chase: I'd prefer you not tell him.
House: Yeah, it's better. I'll get to see his face when he reads his dad's obituary.

Chase: [About Dr. Cameron] Uh-huh. And why is her test better than mine?
House: Because she's cuter. Though it's close.

House: Sorry, up late. Internet porn.
Chase: How come you're not in your office?
House: Because there is a computer in my office. If I log on, romance will ensue. My wrist might fall off.

Chase: Wow. Yeah, I get it. House is adorable. I just want to hold him and never let go.

Chase: I said I thought it was a trauma-induced aneurysm.
House: Yeah, could have carried a tad more weight if you'd mentioned the liking pain thing. You're on my naughty list. Sorry, no leather stethoscope this Christmas.

House: Do the things, the, you know, blah blah blah blah blah, all that stuff the other docs did. If that's negative, ultrasound his belly. If that's negative, CT his abdomen and pelvis, with and without contrast. Did I miss anything?
Chase: Kitchen sink?
House: Well, we could certainly give that a...oh, you minx.

Chase: How does an inmate on death row get his hands on heroin?
Foreman: Are you serious?
House: The man knows prisons. When we've got a yachting question, we'll come to you.

House: Who wants to head over to the prison and find Clarence's secret stash?
Foreman: Fine, I'll do it.
House: Great! Chase it is.
Chase: I assume you have a reason beyond wanting to make me completely miserable?
House: You've got a prettier mouth. Better chance the inmates will open up to you.

Chase: If she's never kissed a boy, it's a fair bet she's never had sex.
House: Tell that to all the hookers that won't kiss me on the mouth.

Chase: You're just too nasty to each other to have not been, well, nasty.
House: Hey, I can be a jerk to people I haven't slept with. I am that good.

Cameron: Why would you need five thousand dollars?
Chase: Bad night at poker...or great night with a hooker?
House: Thank you for saving me the trouble of deflecting that personal question with a joke.

Chase: Pre-World War II fluorescent bulbs contained large amounts of beryllium. Beryllium dust inflames the lungs, they get rigid, patient can't breathe. [Dr. House gives him a questioning look] My father co-authored a paper on acute berylliosis.
House: Phew! For a moment there I thought you were smart.

Stacy: If Chase screwed up so badly, why didn't you fire him?
House: He has great hair.

House: [About Stacy] She protects Chase, she protects me.
Wilson: Unless her advice to Chase is to make a deal and give you up. [In a bad Australian accent] "I'm so sorry, if only Dr House had paid attention... he'd never even met her; he never does."
House: Chase loves me. And isn't Turkish.

Chase: We've got an MRI scheduled in 20 minutes. Earliest Foreman could get the machine.
House: I teach you to lie and cheat and steal...and as soon as my back is turned, you wait in line?

House: (to Chase, in front of a girl he's talking to) Hey! How's that anal fissure? Did it heal yet, or is it still draining? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd come back for seconds. I figured after that girl in the stairwell, you'd be done for the night.
Chase: He's joking.
House: No Adam's apple, small hands. No surprises this time.
Girl: I'll, uh, see you later.
(Girl exits.)
House: Got a case.
Chase: Well, you could've just said that. You didn't have to screw with me.
House: Yeah, but if I didn't screw with you, you'd spend the whole night thinking you might get laid, which means you'd be useless. Better to extinguish all hope.

Chase: What are you doing?
House: [checking corpses' toe tags] I called my mom. She didn't pick up.

Chase: Her heart's fragile after that last attack! The chances of tachycardia are...
House: You have my permission to blame Foreman in any negligence trial.

House: Wow, you guys look like crap. What do you got?
Chase: Purple dye on my fingers.