Miranda, after Andy refers to fashion as "this stuff":
This... stuff? Oh, okay, I see. You think this has nothing to do with you. You go to your closet and select, I don't know, that lumpy blue sweater, because you're trying to tell the world you take yourself too seriously to care what you have on your back. But what you don't know is that that sweater is not just blue, it's not turquoise, it's not lapis, it's actually cerulean. And you're also blithely unaware of the fact that in 2002 Oscar de la Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns, and then it was Yves Saint-Lauren, wasn't it, who showed cerulean military jackets. And then cerulean quickly showed up in the collections of eight different designers, from where it filtered down to the department stores, and finally trickled on down to some tragic Casual Corner where you no doubt fished it out of a clearance bin. However, that blue represents millions of dollars in countless jobs — and it's sort of comical how you think you've made a choice that exempts you from the fashion industry, when in fact you're wearing a sweater that was selected for you by the people in this room... from a pile of stuff.
Miranda again, after Andy fails to get her a flight home:
Do you know why I hired you? I always hire the same girl: stylish, slender (of course), worships the magazine. But so often they turn out to be... I don't know, disappointing, and... stupid. So, you with that impressive resume, and your big speech about your so-called work ethic — I thought you would be different. I said to myself, "Go ahead! Take a chance! Hire the smart fat girl!" I had hope. My God, I live on it. Anyway, you ended up disappointing me more than any of the other silly girls.
Nigel, a few seconds later, when Andy complains that she gets no credit for her work:
Andy, be serious. You're not trying. You are whining. What is it that you want me to say? Do you want me to say "Poor you, Miranda's picking on you, poor you, poor Andy." Hm? Wake up, Six. She's just doing her job. Don't you know that you're working at the place that published some of the greatest artists of the century? Holston. Lagerfeld. De la Renta. And what they did, what they created, is greater than art. Because you live your life in it. ...Well, maybe not you, but some people. You think this is just a magazine? This isn't just a magazine. This is a shining beacon of hope for... I don't know, let's say a young boy growing up in Rhode Island with six brothers, and pretending to go to soccer practice while reading Runway under the covers at night with a flashlight. You have no idea how many legends have walked these halls, and what's worse, you don't care. Because this place, where so many would die to work, you only deign to work. And you wonder why she doesn't kiss you on the forehead and give you a gold star on your homework at the end of the day. Wake up, sweetheart.
Emily, when she finds out Andy is going to Paris instead of her:
You know what really just gets me about this? It's that you were the one who said that you don't really care about this stuff. You're not interested in fashion, you just want to be a journalist. What a load of bollocks! Face it, Andy: you sold yourself the day you first put on those Jimmy Choos. I saw it. And you know, what just kills me is all the clothes that you're going to get... I mean, you don't deserve them! You eat carbs, for Chrissakes! Carbs! So unfair.
Lily, when she catches Andy flirting with Christian:
You know, the Andy I know is madly in love with Nate, is always five minutes early, and thinks that, I don't know, Club Monaco is couture. For the last sixteen years, I've known everything about that Andy. But this person? This glamazon that skulks around dark corners with some random hot fashion guy? I don't get her. [beat] Have fun in Paris.
Nate, again seconds later, when Andy thinks he looks down on her for her job:
Andy, I make port wine reductions all day. I'm not exactly in the Peace Corps. You know, you could be out there pole dancing every night for all I care, as long as you did it with a little integrity. You used to say this was just a job, you used to make fun of the Runway girls! Now what happened? You're one of them! And you know what, that's fine. Just own up to it, and then we can stop pretending we have anything in common any more.