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[Dean falls on top of Sam as they sneak through a half open window]
Dean Winchester: Oh, sorry!
Sam Winchester: OK, be quiet.
Dean Winchester: Me be quiet? You be quiet!

Dean Winchester: I hope your apple pie is freakin' worth it!

Dean Winchester: Ugh, the thought of him driving my car.
Sam Winchester: Oh, come on.
Dean Winchester: It's killing me!
Sam Winchester: Let it go.

Sam Winchester: Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted.
Dean Winchester: You know what, there's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams, and that they shoot rainbows out of their ass!
Sam Winchester: [fakes shock] Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?

Dean Winchester: [Looking at the haunted hotel] We might even run into Fred and Daphne inside. Mmmm... Daphne. Love her.

Dean Winchester: Come on man. I know Sam, ok? Better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than I do. I mean the guy feels guilty searching the internet for porn.

Dean Winchester: I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot.

Dean Winchester: We know a little about a lot of things; just enough to make us dangerous.

Dean Winchester: [Sam points to a word carved into a telephone pole] Croatoan?
Sam Winchester: Yeah.
[Dean stares blankly]
Sam Winchester: Roanoke... lost colony... ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?
Dean Winchester: Yeah. Shot heard 'round the world, how bills become laws...
Sam Winchester: That's not school; that's schoolhouse rock!

Sam Winchester: Put the gun down!
Gordon Walker: You shouldn't take your shoes off around here, you could get tetanus.

Dean Winchester: Ya' know she could be faking.
Sam Winchester: Yeah, what do you wanna do, poke her with a stick?
[Dean nods]
Sam Winchester: Dude, you're not gonna poke her with a stick.

Dean Winchester: Damn cops.
Sam Winchester: They were just doing their job.
Dean Winchester: No, they were doing our job, only they don't know it so they suck at it.

Dean Winchester: I like him, he says okie dokie.

Sam Winchester: Kids are the best? You don’t even like kids.
Dean Winchester: I love kids!
Sam Winchester: Name three children you even know.
[Dean scratches his head; Sam waves him off and walks away]

Sam Winchester: Dude, I'm not enabling your sick habit. You're like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies.
Dean Winchester: What are you talking about, I eat.

Dean Winchester: What's a P.A.?
Sam Winchester: I think they’re kinda like slaves.

McG: Marty, what do you think?
Martin: Not married to salt, what do you want? Still sticking with condiments?
McG: Just sounds different, not better. What else would a ghost be scared of?
Walter Dixon: Aww, ya gotta be kidding me.
Martin: [Aside] What would a ghost be scared of?
[to McG]
Martin: Maybe shotguns.
McG: ‘Kay, that makes even less sense than salt.

Sam Winchester: Why'd you let me fall asleep?
Dean Winchester: Because I am an awesome brother. What did you dream about?
Sam Winchester: Lollipops and candy canes.

Dean Winchester: This looks like a zombie pen, Sammy.

Sheriff: You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall. Along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect.
Dean: That makes sense, since when the first one went missing in '82, I was three!

Policeman: Who are you?
Dean: Federal Marshals.
Policeman: You two are a little young for Marshals, aren’t you?
Dean: Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you.

Sam: Dude, you gotta update your cassette tape collection.
Dean: Why?
Sam: Well for one they are cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica…it’s the greatest hits of mullet rock.
Dean: House rules, Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.
Sam: Sammy is a chubby 12 year old. It's Sam, okay?
Dean: [turning up the music] Sorry can't hear you. The music's too loud.

Sam: What the hell are you doing here?
Dean: I was looking for a beer.
Sam: Dean...what the hell are you doing here?
Dean: Okay, all right. We gotta talk.
Sam: Um... the phone?
Dean: If I’d called you would you have picked up?

Officer: So, fake U.S. Marshall. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?
Dean: My boobs.

Sam: Yeah? When I told dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45.
Dean: Well what was he supposed to do?
Sam: I was nine years old!

Dean: Chow time, you freaky bastard. Yeah, that's right, bring it on baby. I taste good.

Dean: [after Sam ignores a flirting waitress] You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while. (points to the attractive waitress) That’s fun.

Andrea: (to Dean) Must be hard, with your sense of direction; never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.

Dean: What time is it now?
Sam: Oh about 5:45.
Dean: In the morning?!
Sam: Yup.
Dean: (groans) Where does the day go?

Dean: When's the last time you got a good night sleep?
Sam: I don't know. A little while I guess. It's not a big deal.
Dean: Yeah, it is!
Sam: Look I appreciate your concern…
Dean: Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive! So I need you sharp.

Michael: A king or two queens?
Dean: [asking for a room, glancing to Sam] Two queens.
Michael: [under his breath] Yeah, I bet.
Dean: What'd you say?
Michael: Nice car.

Dean: You find a way to stop Callie, all right?
Sam: What about you?
Dean: I'm gonna go stop the big bad wolf. Which is the weirdest thing I've ever said.

Sam: (getting off the phone with Bobby) Well, we're not dealing with the anti-Claus.
Dean: What'd Bobby say?
Sam: Uh, that we're morons.

Sam: Dude, dude, I am not using this ID.
Dean: Why not?
Sam: Because it says Bikini Inspector on it!

Dean: [picks up an old jar in a basement they’re looking around] Hey, Sam, I dare you to take a swig of this.
Sam: What the hell would I do that for?
Dean: [pauses] I double dare you!

Dean: You fudgin' touch me again, I'll fudgin' kill you!

Sam: I'll call Bobby, maybe he's run into something like this before.
Dean: [Sarcastically] Oh, I'm sure he has. Just your typical haunted campus, alien abduction, alligator in the sewer gig. Yeah...

[Dean's version of his pick up]
Starla: My God, you are attractive!
Dean: Thanks. But no time for that now. You need to tell me about this urban legend. Please, lives are at stake.
Starla: Sorry, I can't even concentrate…. It's like staring…into the sun.

Dean: Are those antique dolls? Cause this one, this one here, he's got a major doll collection back home, huh? [stares at Sam expectantly]
Sam [hesitating]: Big time.
Dean: Big time! You think he could come in, well, we could come in and take a look?
Susan: I don't know…
Dean: Please? I mean, he loves them. He's not going to tell you this, but he's always dressing them up in these little tiny outfits – you'd make his day. She would huh? Huh?
Sam [woodenly]: It's true.
[Susan ushers them in]
Dean: Wow! This is a lot of dolls. And, they're nice, you know? Not super creepy at all!

Dean: Christmas is Jesus' birthday.
Sam: No, Jesus' birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the Winter Solstice Festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed Christmas. But I mean the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit, that's all remnants of Pagan worship.
Dean: How do you know that? You gonna tell me next…that the Easter Bunny's Jewish?

Santa's Elf: Welcome to Santa's Court. Can I escort your child to Santa?
Dean: Um, no. But actually, uh, my brother here, it's been a life long dream of his.
(Sam gives confused look)
Santa's Elf: [unsure] No kids…over 12?
Sam: He's just kidding. We only came here to watch.
Santa's Elf: [blinks, wide-eyed] Ew. [walks away]

[Doorbell rings]
Dean: (speaking with a wrench in his mouth about to have a tooth ripped out) You go'a get dat? [Doorbell rings again] You sho’ get dat.

Dean: Looks like old man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger during his time.
Sam: And after his time, too. The reverse cross was used by Satanists for centuries, but the sigil of sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the '60's.
Dean: Exactly why you never get laid.

Dean: Don't worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing.
Sam: Yeah, what makes you so sure?
Dean: Well, because I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right.
Sam: No it doesn't.
Dean: Yeah, it totally does.

Sarah: You guys are uncomfortably comfortable with this.
Sam: Well, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?

Sam: Maybe we could tell them there's a gas leak, that might get them out of the house for a few hours.
Dean: Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us?
Sam: Yeah. (long pause) We could always tell them the truth.
Sam and Dean: (in unison) Naaah.

Meg: You're dead, John. Your boys are dead.
John: I never used the gun, how could I know it wouldn't work?
Meg: I am so not in the mood for this, I've just been shot!
John: Well then, I guess you're lucky the gun wasn't real.
Meg: That's funny, John. We're gonna strip the skin from your bones, but that was funny.

Sam: (with ouija board) Dean? Dean, are you here?
Dean: (as spirit) God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party.

Dean: Excuse me. We're looking for a Mr. Cooper. Have you seen him around?
Amazing Papazian: What is that? Some kind of joke? (removes his glasses, showing he's blind)
Dean: Oh God, I'm sorry...
Amazing Papazian: You think I wouldn't give my teeth to see Mr. Cooper, or a sunset, or anything at all...?
Dean: (aside, to Sam) You wanna give me a little help here?
Sam: Not really.
Midget Clown: Hey Barry, is there a problem?
Amazing Papazian: Yeah, this guy hates blind people.
Dean: No, no I don't...
Midget Clown: Hey buddy, what's your problem?
Dean: Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding.
Midget Clown: Little? You son of a bitch...
Dean: No, no, no, I'm just... Can somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is? Please?

Sam: All right, Dean, it's just we've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once.
Dean: You know what, you're right. Come here, I want to lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, maybe even slow dance.

Ellen: [hunting with Gordon] That's not a good idea, Sam.
Sam: I thought you said he was a good hunter?
Ellen: Yea, and Hannibal Lecter is a good psychiatrist.

Dean: We can't just waste it with a head shot?
Sam: Dude, you've been watching way too many Romero flicks.
Dean: So you're telling me there's no lore on how to smoke 'em?
Sam: No, Dean, I'm telling you there's too much! I mean there's a hundred different legends on the walking dead but they all have different methods for killing them. Some say setting them on fire, one said... where is it? Right here: feeding their hearts to wild dogs--that's my personal favorite!

Andy: [has psychic abilities that make people tell the truth; Sam isn't affected; Dean is] Why are you following me?
Sam: Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed...
Andy: Tell the truth!
Sam: That's what I...
Dean: (deadpan) We hunt demons.
Andy: What?
Dean: Demons, spirits, things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam here, this is my brother...
Sam: Dean, shut up!
Dean: (through gritted teeth) I'm trying! He's psychic. Kinda like you, well not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's gonna become one himself, cause you're all part of something that's terrible, and I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right.

Andy: Are you really this stupid? learn you got a call them up! You go out for a drink. You don’t...start...killing people!

Ash: [opens his door a few inches] Sam. Dean. Sam and Dean.
Sam: Hey, Ash, um, we need your help.
Ash: Well hell then, I guess I need my pants.

Sam: I needed some time off. To deal. So, I'm taking a road trip with my brother.
Ballard: How's that going for you?
Sam: Great. I mean, we saw the second largest ball of twine in the continental U.S. [grins] Awesome.

Dean: [shows Sam a piece of paper a girl gave him] I don’t know what this thing is.
Sam: You mean Carly’s Myspace address?
Dean: Yeah, Myspace. What the hell is that? [Sam chuckles] Seriously, is that like, some sort of porn site?

Sarge: My neighbor...Mr. Rogers, he...
Dean: You’ve got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?
Sarge: Not anymore.

Sam: [picks up a cartridge case] These are .223 Caliber, subsonic rounds...the guy must've put a suppressor on the rifle.
Ava: [stares] Dude...who are you?
Sam: I ah...I just I...I just watch a lot of TJ Hooker.

Ava: (to shrink) I just remembered, when I was a kid I swallowed, like, 8 things of pop rocks and then drank a whole can of coke. You don’t think that that counts as a suicide attempt, do you?

Dean: Dude, you ever take off like that again...
Sam: What? You'd kill me?
Dean: That is so not funny.

Susan: What the hell happened out there?
Dean: You want the truth?
Susan: Of course.
Dean: Well at first we thought it was some kind of hoodoo curse. But that out there, that was definitely a spirit.
Susan: You're insane.
Dean: [pauses, shrugs] It's been said.

Dean: We gotta figure this out and fast. What d'ya find out about Granny?
Sam: (drunkenly) You're bossy.
Dean: [looks over to him, confused] What?
Sam: You're bossy. And short... (chuckles)
Dean: Are you drunk?
Sam: Yeah! So? Stupid.

Dean: (talking to Sam) Well I learned a valuable lesson here...always take down your Christmas decorations after New Year's, or you might get filleted by a hooker from God.

Molly: Isn’t this argument a little archaic? Men can ask directions these days.
David: Oh, no we can’t. It’s against our genetic code. Look, I know exactly where we are.
Molly: We’re nowhere.
David: Highway 99, all right? It cuts right through….. (trails off as they pass a sign marking Highway 41)

Sam: It's an old country custom, Dean. Planting a tree as a grave-marker.
Dean: [stares] You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.

Sam: What were you doing with Kurt?
Madison: I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like he introduced himself like, “Hi, I’m possessive and controlling and I like to punch people, wanna be my girlfriend?”

Sam: You know, maybe the spirits are trying to shut down the movie because they think it sucks. 'Cause, I mean, it kind of does.

Tiny: My dad treated my brother and me like crap, right up until the day he died.
Dean: How'd he die?
Tiny: My brother shot him.

Professor: Son? You been drinking?
Dean: Everybody keeps asking me that. But, uh, no.

Sam: (to Dean, about to stab himself with knife.) Look, this isn't a dream, all right. I'm here with you, now, and you are about to kill yourself, Dean.
Dean: No, I'm pretty sure. [hesitates] Like...90 percent sure.

(Sam hears a noise and is about to turn the corner)
Sam: Andy!?
Andy: Sam... what are you doing here?
Sam: I don't know.
Andy: What am I doing here?
Sam: I don't know, just...
Andy: Where are we!?
Sam: Andy, look calm down.
Andy: I can't calm down. I just woke up in friggin' frontier land!
Sam: What's the last thing you remember?
Andy: Honestly... my fourth bong load.

Ava: (panicking) Oh my God, my fiancé, Brady! If I’ve been missing for that long he must be freaking out! (does a double take as she notices Andy, blinks)
Andy: Hey. Andy. Also...freaking out.

Sam: Why are you following me?
Ruby: I'm interested in you.
Sam: Why?
Ruby: Because you're tall. I love a tall man!

Dean: So you’re only out for yourself, huh? It’s all about number one?
Bela: Being a hunter is so much more noble? A bunch of obsessed, revenge driven sociopaths trying to save a world that can’t be saved?
Dean: Well, aren’t you a glass half-full?

Bela: (after burning the foot) Thanks very much. I'm out of one and a half million and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer.
Dean: Wow, I really don't feel bad about that. Sam?
Sam: [holding his shoulder, having been shot by Bela] Nope, not even a little.

Kubrick: You know...I used to think Gordon sent me.
Sam: (tied up in the chair) Gordon? Oh, come on--!
Kubrick: He wanted me to put a bullet in your brain.
Sam: [sighs] Yeah. That sounds like him.

Dean: (trying an exorcism from memory) Spiritus emundi, undalara, persona tote… (trails off, lost)
Casey: Nice try but I think you just ordered a pizza.

Dean: This is where we parked the car, right?
Sam: I thought so.
Dean: Where's my car?
Sam: Did you feed the meter?
Dean: Yes I fed the meter. Sam, where's my car, did somebody... stole my car?
Sam: Hey-hey, calm down. Dean.
Dean: I'm calmed down. Sombody stole my c...
[Dean starts to hyperventolate]
Sam: Wow, Dean. Hey-hey-hey-hey, take it easy, take it easy.

(about Bela)
Dean: Can I shoot her?
Sam: Not in public.

Gordon: Sam Winchester’s the antichrist.
Bela: Ooh. I’d heard something about that…
Gordon: It’s true.
Bela: …from the Easter Bunny. Who heard it from the Tooth Fairy.