Hodgins: [After Aristoo demonstrates his great proficiency with nunchucks] What are you...some kind of Persian ninja?!

Hodgins: Are you asking me to do an experiment?
Cam: With Arastoo.
Hodgins: Why are you saying his name like that?
Cam: Like what?
Hodgins: Arastooooo. You're chewing on his name.
Cam: Arastoo said that he looks at the devil every day.
Hodgins: Maybe he has low self-esteem.
Cam: Or -- you know what they call us, right?
Hodgins: They, being?
Cam: Muslims. Some Muslims. The ones over there trying to kill us.
Hodgins: Yeah, they call us the great Satan. Oh.
Arastoo: [walks in] Look here, what I found. Radiating microfractures in the cartilage of the victim's vestigial tail.
Cam: Radiating microfractures plus a ruptured intestine?
Hodgins: What does that mean?
Cam: He was slammed into something.
Arastoo: Perhaps, in fact, he did wrestle with an archangel and lose. As it should be. The devil lost, as he always must.
Cam: The devil lost?
Hodgins: As he always must?
Cam: What if Arastoo means us?
Hodgins: Arastoo is a very sweet, gentle guy, you know?
Cam: I know, but maybe in his heart he looks down on us! Do you want to work with someone who thinks you're the great Satan?
Hodgins: No! I don't want to be the great Satan. I don't even want to be a minor demon.

Hodgins: Do you know what Vincent Nigel-Murray is? He's a genius.
Brennan: Yes, but so are we all. Except for Angela.
Angela: Oh, right, and yet who do you turn to when you need pretty pictures?

Hodgins: Page 187. [places Brennan's new book on the table] Would you mind reading it aloud?
Angela: Page 187. [playfully] I am not reading the sparky bits to you! You get somebody else to do that, sicko.
Hodgins: Okay, fine. Read it to yourself, then. [watches as Angela reads] That's that thing that I do. Nobody does that thing. It's my thing that I do.
Angela: Right.
Hodgins: It's not a well known thing. It's, you know, my thing that I do.
Angela: Right. I remember. I was there.
Hodgins: You told Brennan about that thing that I do!
Angela: It's a very good thing.
Hodgins: It's my thing! That I do! Did you tell her that it was my thing?
Angela: You mean did I give you credit?
Hodgins: Yes! Did you?
Angela: No.
Hodgins: Good, because I don't need her looking at me thinking about that thing I do.
Angela: Well that's good, then.
Hodgins: But now that thing I do is in print and every guy that reads that book is going to give it a shot. [sighs] Oh, well. You know I've got other things that I do. [Angela laughs] My advice: only sleep with guys that can't read, because otherwise you'll never be rid of me.

Hodgins: The accelerant was common motor oil, available at any gas station.
Cam: Well, at least it wasn't brimstone, available only from Hell.

Hodgins: The spider eggs were on the body before it was encased in the clay. The heat in the lab caused the eggs to hatch and when you shone your flashlight they headed for the light.
Mr. Nigel-Murray: Based on mandibular indentation, the victim is late-twenties, early-thirties.
Cam: Dr. Hodgins, I can still see one in his mouth.
Hodgins: These badboys are frontinella communis. They're non-poisonous.
Cam: Yeah, but still with those gross spider faces and legs, though.
[...]
Hodgins: Are you okay there, Dr. Saroyan?
Cam: I'm just itchy all over. I'm gonna go burn all of these clothes and maybe my hair.

Josh Parsons: Are you here to protect them while they mistreat and torture the chickens on this farm and the people who live downwind of its foul emanations?
Booth: You practice that speech much, pal?
Brennan: We found Nick Rabin's body.
Booth: As of now, you are our number one suspect.
Parsons: Please, I didn't kill anyone. I'm an extreme pacifist.
Brennan: That's an oxymoron. You're either extreme or pacifist. You can't be both.

Michelle: I'm scared. Is that weird? I mean, it's just sex, right? It's all over the TV and everywhere.
Cam: Whoa, there's no such thing as 'just sex', Michelle. Every time you give a bit of yourself to the person you're with. So it's okay to wait as long as you want.
Michelle: I don't want to lose Perry.
Cam: If Perry doesn't understand how you feel, he doesn't deserve you.

Officer Becky Conway: Have I arrested you before, hon?
Brennan: No. You were my lab partner in Chemistry at Burtonsville High.
Officer Becky Conway: Are you absolutely sure? I have an excellent memory.
Brennan: Positive. Though you are thinner now, which is better for you cardiovascular system. In High School, you were quite overweight, hence the derision from the other students.
Officer Becky Conway: Yeah. I remember you now. The creepy girl.

Parker: Can't you be his girlfriend?
Brennan: That would be inappropriate.
Parker: Why?
Brennan: Because we work together.
Parker: That's a stupid reason.
Booth: Bones, I'm really not comfortable with the questions you're asking.
Brennan: Booth, could you maybe trust me for a second? Trust that I can say the right thing? In the time I've been with you I've learned a lot about how to deal with people. [looks to Parker] Your father is very, very good with people.
Parker: Then why doesn't he have a girlfriend?
Booth: And we're off! [gets a look from Brennan] Okay. All right.
Brennan: Can I ask you a question? [Parker nods] Why do you think your father needs a girlfriend so much?
Booth: Bones, there's a whole gender/parent bond thing going on here. He's just going to get confused.
Parker: So I can have a pool!
Brennan: He doesn't sound confused.

Parker: I want you to save lives.
Booth: Yeah well I do that here.
Parker: No, here, you catch people that kill other people. There, you would make it so people won't die. Isn't that better?

Paula Lindbergh: I was afraid this would come up when I heard you took Trey in for questioning.
Booth: You're right, so start talking.
Paula: I should never have made Elliot move to the suburbs. In a way, I emasculated him.
Brennan: Oh, God. She's a therapist. She talks like a therapist.
[...]
Brennan: Interlocking lines of persuasion between members of the collective result in multiple duplicities.
Paula: Oh, my God. She's an anthropologist. She talks like an anthropologist!

Protesters at chicken farm: Pluck you! Pluck you! Pluck you!

Sweets: [watches Cam walk into his office without knocking] No, no, no. You can't just walk in here!
Cam: Arastoo Vasiri, our Muslim intern, he's been faking his accent. At first I go where everyone else goes, you know? [singsong voice] Terrorist!
Sweets: Wouldn't a terrorist fake not having an accent?
Cam: Is it crazy or just weird? Weird I can deal with, but crazy? [shakes head and begins to leave the office]
Sweets: Wait. What do you want me to do?
Cam: Crazy's your department.

Sweets: Do you know what you're looking at?
Booth: Yeah, and I'm pretty sure you haven't been this close to one in a long time.
Sweets: It's a PET scan of your brain.
Booth: Hmm. Then I was wrong.
Sweets: This is called the ventral tegmental area, and this is the dorsal caudate body. Now these two areas have been proven to be linked to romantic love and sexual arousal.
Booth: If this is your version of dirty pictures, they're not working for me right now. [Closes the laptop computer.]
Sweets: No. [Reopens computer] This scan was taken before your operation. The green and blue areas indicate low activity. The same scan while you were in the coma: lit up like the fourth of July. You were dreaming of being in love, of being married, right? [changes image] The same scan, three days ago. Before your operation you were not in love. After your operation you were. Conclusion: your feelings are not real and will fade away, like every other symptom. Now, I think you and I both know that Dr. Brennan's hyper-rationale is really just a cover for a very vulnerable and sensitive core.
Booth: Well, great. So we're talking about Bones' brain, too, here now.
Sweets: So, if you breach those defenses and it turns out you don't really love her -- [puts PET scans on table] -- I left you hard copies.