John Bacchus: You're under arrest.
George Gently: He's under arrest, when I say he is.
Nathan Stark: Good job, Carter... Wow, that didn't even leave a bad taste in my mouth.
Marshall Jack Carter: Wait for it.
Nathan Stark: ...Oh, there it is.
Hairdresser: Shouldn't I have a lawyer?
Brenda Leigh Johnson: You could call a lawyer... but if you do I'll tear this custody agreement into little pieces and Dean will walk away with your baby the minute it's born.
Jamie: Aren't tracer rounds illegal?
Sloane: Marshall, would you please go back to work?
Agent Marshall Flinkman: Just to clarify, I'm not being fired?
Sloane: Back to work means not fired.
Agent Devlin: Everybody's got a theory on the increasing violence in our society.
Agent Emmerich: My wife thinks it's the artificial hormones in beef.
Agent Devlin: What's your take?
Frank Black: I don't think it's the beef.
Burton 'Gus' Guster: I can't spend the night in the museum. I don't have my toothbrush, I don't have my multi-vitamins, and oh yeah, I don't want my soul suffering eternal damnation for disrupting the sleep of an Egyptian canal digger.
Sherlock Holmes: If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, is the truth.
Alan Decker: It's okay. I'm used to the callous attitude mortals have towards vampires. I'm used to wandering the earth - reviled, hunted, hated. That's why I became a lawyer.
Sydney Fox: I'm talking about something much more serious than a curse! I'm talking about a crazy woman in a bustier.
Yagami Light: I'll solve equations with my right hand and write names with my left. I'll take a potato chip... and eat it.
Phillip Broyles: Someone out there is experimenting, only the whole world is their lab.
Detective Estevez: You didn't...see anything weird this morning, did you Mr. Brotzman?
Todd Brotzman: Yes. No. M-Maybe. I don't know.
Detective Estevez: Are you aware you just gave every possible response to that question? Eyebrows. [Detective Zimmerman raises his eyebrows].
Olive Snook: Yesterday, a farrier named Lucas Shoemaker was found dead. Trampled.
Emerson Cod: Why should I care about a dude that sells fur coats?
Olive Snook: Not a furrier, a farrier. Heir.
Emerson Cod: Fair-rier?
Olive Snook: It's a blacksmith. Puts shoes on horses.
Emerson Cod: Don't try to act like that's a word everybody knows.
Amma Crellin: Don't tell Momma.
Richie Ryan: Come on, do it. Come on, come on, go ahead, do it. When the Quickening knocks you on your skinny little ass, MacLeod's gonna be right there to help you up. I die, you go right behind me.
Dr. Paul Wayne: So what difference does it make, whether it's 20 minutes or 20 years, since neither amounts to the faintest echo of the tiniest whisper in the thunder of time.
Number 6: Unlike me, many of you have accepted the situation of your imprisonment, and will die here like rotten cabbages.