Lincoln Rhyme: Whatever happened to your father doesn't mean it's gonna happen to you. You're a great cop. You'd make a terrific detective. It's a gift. Don't throw it away.
Rhyme: Do you know who I am?
Amelia: I read your manual at the academy.
Rhyme: Yeah? What did you think of it?
Amelia: I'm not a book critic, sir.
Lincoln Rhyme: Destiny is what we make it.
Amelia: Smells like manure down here. Ortiz knows his shit.
Rhyme: There are five basic contaminants in a crime scene. I'll skip to the worse one. Other cops.
Paulie: If you were any more wound up you'd be a timex.
Amelia: Thelma told me about your plans for your "final transition."
Lincoln Rhyme: Cop to cop, that subject's not open to discussion. Why?.. Would you miss me?
Amelia: Well, destiny's what we make it, right?
Lincoln Rhyme: Touche.
Amelia: Now, you seem to have your reasons for checking out. I just... I would have expected more from someone like you.
Lincoln Rhyme: Well, I might surprise you and... live forever.
Amelia: Nothing you could do would surprise me, Rhyme.
Lincoln Rhyme: How is your mother?
Eddie Ortiz: Oh, God, she's 76, and she's schtupping some guy named Morris. Can you believe it?
Lincoln Rhyme: God bless her.
Eddie Ortiz: It's Morris I'm worried about. He's 76, with a tricky ticker and an active pecker.
Amelia: I can't do this.
Lincoln Rhyme: You can do it. Yes, you can. Yesterday you stopped a train. You can do anything you want when you put your mind to it.
Amelia: Don't work me, Rhyme... Just tell me what to do next.
Lincoln Rhyme: Very slowly... walk the grid... one foot in front of the other. I want you to look around you now. Remember... crime scenes are three-dimensional... floors, walls and ceilings.
Amelia: Excuse me, but the victim was already dead when we arrived.
Captain Howard Cheney: And you, half-assed patrolman working a crime scene... those days are over. I'll take that evidence bag now, thank you.
Amelia: You can take it with a chain of custody voucher, sir.
Captain Howard Cheney: Are you out of your mind? Hmmm? Let's go. You're coming with us.
Amelia: What? Are you arresting me?
Captain Howard Cheney: You just get in the car, and keep your mouth shut to the press.
Lincoln Rhyme: Pull up a chair. I want you to tell me everything you know about the crime scene.
Amelia: Basically, you saw my report.
Lincoln Rhyme: I read your report. I wanna know what you felt. What you feel... in the deepest recesses of your senses.
Amelia: You are in love with the sound of your own voice, aren't you?
Lincoln Rhyme: No, it's your voice I yearn to hear. Pull up a chair. I won't bite you.
Chosen answer: The killer used to be a forensic scientist for law enforcement (where or when is never stated). Rhymes testified in court that evidence had been falsified, leading to wrongful prosecutions, the killer was sent to prison for this, where "every day I was brutalised". The killer blamed Rhymes for this, so set out to prove he was better by giving him a series of clues that he (in theory) couldn't solve. It should also be pointed out that Rhymes never met the killer or knew what he looked like.