Edward Newgate: You're mad!
Silas Lamb: We're all mad Dr. Newgate. Some are simply not mad enough to admit it.
Pearly Soames: I'll tell you something that should chill your blood. No matter how far we tip the scales our way, no matter how many of them we turn dark, nothin' seems to break their capacity for hope. They pass it back and forth like the flu at a preschool fair. We're losing, Lucifer. One bright star at a time, we're losing.
Newt: Great, we're all bloody inspired.
Audience Member: So you want to create a god? Your own god?
Will: That's a very good question. Isn't that what man has always done?
Jon Burroughs: He said I was cherishable, and he picked me to join the band.
Clara: You are fingers being told which keys to push.
Jon Burroughs: I push my own keys.
Clara: Ten little bits of bone and skin.
Jon Burroughs: And I'm perfectly capable of going to my furthest corners and composing music.
Clara: Your furthest corners?
Jon Burroughs: My furthest corners.
Clara: Someone needs to punch you in the face.
Kat Connor: I miss fucking you.
Jami: It was crazy of me to think I could help the police, but I'm going to keep researching, keep writing, there are stories that need to be told, so.
Matt Scudder: I do favors for people, and in return, they give me gifts. So, what can I do for you?