Castle: How often are people killed in neighbourhoods like this?
Beckett: Same as anywhere else Castle. Just the once.

Castle: I had sex with my ex-wife this morning. My first ex-wife. Meredith, Alexis' mom. And she's thinking about moving back to New York. Do you know what that would mean to me? That would be a very special brand of hell: the hell of a deep-fried twinkie.
Ryan: Deep-fried twinkie?
Castle: Yeah, the guilty pleasure that you know is bad for you so you only do it once, maybe twice a year for the novelty,
Ryan and Esposito: Ah!
Castle: But a deep-fried twinkie everyday is... [gags]
Beckett: Castle!
Castle: What?
Beckett: Crime scene. Dead body. A little respect here.
Castle: I don't think he can hear me.
Beckett: Okay, how about a little self-respect then?
Castle: ...Fine.

Castle: I never pegged you for a magic fan. You know any good tricks?
Beckett: I do this one thing... with ice cubes.

Castle: I wonder how Zalman did it. Must've whipped something from Jerome's pocket with a receipt for his weekend of sin.
Beckett: Like this? (Holds up Castle's phone.)
Castle: (Gasps.) You had your hand in my pocket and I didn't even feel it? Do it again.

Castle: I'm here to protect you.
Beckett: What, with your vast arsenal of rapier wit?

Castle: I've always liked your legs. But now I respect them.
Kate: Yeah, yours aren't so bad either. You know, for the next police picnic, we should do the three-legged race together.
Castle: You're on.

Castle: It's a common mistake, but it's not ironic that Dr. Cosway's not here for you to lean on. It's just simply tragic. It would be ironic if her death made you feel better.

Castle: It's a fact of life. People we love leave us. Unless you chain them to a radiator, which for some reason is illegal.

Castle: Ladies, I am not a stripper. Though I can understand how you'd make that mistake.

Castle: Let's not let a little thing like murder get in the way of having a good time.

Castle: Maybe our killer has a sweet tooth.
Beckett: Given the state of undress I would say it's more likely a sexual fetish.
Lanie: I can do the chocolate. I will even do the whipped cream bikini, but caramel? I prefer slippery to sticky.
Castle: [To Ryan] Does she know we can hear her?

Castle: Mother, prepare to feast on the finest omelette in the land... (He looks up and sees what Martha is wearing.) Before you join the convent...
Martha: No, I am making costumes for my Shakespeare class. So, what do you think?
Castle: I seem to remember asking you to make me an ET halloween costume, and you told me you didn't know how to sew.
Martha: Details. Besides, you were 32 at the time.

Castle: Nikki will burn. I can see the poetry in that. [Beckett looks at him] The terrible, homicidal poetry.

Castle: Oh, it's really not complicated. You were raised by a single mother. She was blonde, she was beautiful, but she never wanted you. When you were, what, twelve? She died, suddenly. Let's say drug overdose. You went foster care, the bad kind. So much hate. So much hate towards your mother for abandoning you that you kill these women to get back at her. But you leave them looking peaceful because as much as you hated your mother, you loved your mother. Am I getting warm?
Jerry: You're drawn to death. You like to be around it, because it thrills you. Now, where does that come from? Your own suppressed impulses? [Leans forward] How close to death do you want to get, huh?

Castle: Oh, let me guess, you don't believe in fate. Soulmates?
Beckett: No.
Castle: Unicorns, fairies, double rainbows? Didn't you ever think your dolls used to get up at night and play with your toys?
Beckett: Sorry.
Castle: Mmm�� Let me guess. You were one of those annoying 6 year olds who stopped believing in Santa Claus because you figured out he couldn't travel faster than the speed of light.
Beckett: I was 3, and we didn't have a chimney.