“What?  No, she loves orange.  There’s no bowtie, true, but the sheen of the jacket more than makes up for it.  You know who I am.  There’s no way this won’t end with … yeah, with a bang.  At least three times tonight and probably a few more times in the morning.  The flowers?  Yellow roses.

… Yellow roses symbolize what?  Friendship?  Are you serious?  But they coordinate so well with the pocket square.  What color symbolizes ‘no one leaves a mark quite like you do’?  Yeah, literally.”

“This jacket … is my personal Scarlet Letter.  I can’t deny my virility — to myself or to the beautiful women who flock to me.  I am the Pied Piper of dirty, strings-free sex.  This jacket symbolizes that.  I do not cuddle, says the jacket.  I screw and go, because I’m Chuck Bass.  And you’re okay with that, because I’m Chuck Bass.”

“Glance upward, Waldorf.  Look off into the distance with me and contemplate our future together.  It is a future full of bowties.  A future in which I may start referring to you by your first name.  I feel good about us, almost as good as I feel about my pocket square/striped shirt combination.  I’d even consider coordinating your outfits with my bowties.  I’ve gone soft, Waldorf.

Except in my pants.  Down there it’s business as usual.  But you knew that.”

(via fuckyeahtvshows)

“Oh for fuck’s sake.  I hatch a perfectly diabolical scheme to get you all hot and bothered, and you waste your sexual energy on Lord Robot?  He’s not even wearing an ascot.  I spent half an hour deciding on the best pocket square for my outfit and yet here you are with this fool, who didn’t even see fit to put on a damn vest.  I really don’t get you, Waldorf.  When I bang Girl Brooklyn, you are going to be pissed.  Mark my words.”

“Nathaniel.  If your uptight harpy girlfriend is going to call every five minutes, I’m going to need you to put your phone on silent.  In case you forgot, Humphrey punched me in my face - as if I were a damn commoner.  It still hurts, I’m hungover, I’m in bed with working class hos, and the only pair of pajamas I could find after last night’s bender are really better suited for the holiday season.  It’s not a good morning.”

“Waldorf, I’m aware we’re on pretty shaky ground right now, and this probably won’t help.  But those footless tights were a mistake.  It’s darling that we coordinate so well, I’ll admit - it adds a very twee aspect to this whole love/hate thing we have going.  But I just wish those damn tights weren’t footless.  Who are you, Brooklyn?  No, not that Brooklyn.  Girl Brooklyn.  The one with the video camera.

What do you mean, my socks and jacket are too matchy-matchy?  That’s it, we’re officially on the outs again.  And I am so going to bang Girl Brooklyn for that comment.  You’ll see.”

“Note to self: buy more coats with fur collars.  They convey the sentiment ‘I am a total p.i.m.p.’ in a classy, understated fashion even my father would approve of.”

“Woah, Archibald!  Chuck Bass - wearer of pink, lover of many - does not need nose candy.  I’ve got enough self confidence and stamina to outparty a hundred Lindsay Lohans. With that said, hand it over.  There’s a certain self-righteous Humphrey I wouldn’t mind seeing all jittery and overstimulated.  You know I love a good public humiliation.

And tuck in your shirt.  You look like a slob.”

“Nathaniel, shut up.  Your Blair problems are meaningless to me.  I’m in the midst of a real crisis here.  I’m worried I may have gone one pattern too far today, and I need complete silence while I contemplate my next sartorial move.”

“There is so much to learn from me, tiny van der Woodsen.  Let’s start with your hair.  It is alarmingly swoop-y.  Do you see this carefully cultivated bedhead?  It’s meant to look as if I just woke up in the arms of some beautiful, anonymous model I’ll never see again.

Actually, that is how I started my day.  But you’re still young.  Let’s start small.”