Grissom: Jail or no jail, she won't last six months. She'll die without her son.
Sara: That would be better for both of them.

Grissom: Nick. You failed your firearm qualifications. You can't be here.
Nick: Oh yeah, well, I'm takin' it again, day after tomorrow. So I figured I could work.
Grissom: Not in the field.
Nick: You're serious?
Grissom: You're in violation just carrying a weapon.

Grissom: So, Greg, how do you explain adhesive and toilet bowl cleanser on the gun?
Greg: I don't know. I can tell you the toilets in the club had blue water.
Grissom': You inspected the toilet bowls for evidence?
Greg': Well, when you got to go, you got to go.
Hodges': Whew.
Grissom: At a crime scene, Greg?
Hodges: Everybody knows you hold it.
Grissom: You go across the street or next-door, somewhere other than the scene, until you've cleared the restroom. Did you clear the restroom?
Greg: No.
Grissom: Well, you could've flushed away evidence, wiped away fingerprints from the handle. Make sure you include this in your field notes.

Grissom: That took a long time. You may need a prostate exam.
Greg: My prostate is just fine. I'm not a soda fountain.
Grissom: Well, hopefully you are, 'cause I need a number two as quickly as possible.
Greg: What is this all about?
Grissom: The victims body was found in the sewer. Ambient temperature 80 degrees. The corrosive chemicals caused the body to decompose faster than normal. And I wanna find out how much faster. Today.
Greg: This is some kind of CSI hazing. Make me appreciate blood and semen more.

Grissom: Well, at least we know where he came from. (shines his flashlight down the sewer)
Catherine: Aren't we going to at least draw straws?
Grissom: No.

Grissom: You committed a fatal error, Greg. You compromised evidence at a crime scene. A judgment like that can cost us a conviction. In order to solo in the field, you have to successfully complete three proficiencies.
Greg: I failed this one.
Grissom: Yeah. (Greg stands up, sighs and heads for the door) But...(Greg stops and turns around) Since you found a suitable replacement in the lab, I'm going to give you one more chance.
Greg: Thank you. Thank you.

Hodges: How old were you when you first got drunk?
Nick: Oh, 16.. 17..
Hodges: Amortized over a generation, 12's about right?
Nick: So you're saying two generations from now, four-year-olds are just gonna be getting trashed?
Hodges: Pre-school graduation parties are going to be off the hook.

Hodges: Would you ever bleach your hair? (Sara looks up from the microscope) I wouldn't, it's so Greg Sanders.

Marlon: Listen... I'm, uh... I'm sick. You know, I got this-this, this illness, which... look. I don't want to go back to prison. That's why I'm being so compliant. Now, yo, I don't work near no little kids. I stay a hundred yards from the school grounds. Man, I don't even go to the park.
Grissom: It's not a disease. It's a compulsion.
Marlon: I stay away from youth organizations, after-school programs, churches...
Grissom: We found a pair of boy's underwear in your bedroom. Explain that.
Marlon: I look at the photos. I look at the photos and I have the briefs for, um... release.
Grissom: So you fantasize, and eventually, the fantasy's not enough and you relapse.
Marlon: Hey, they're mine. I bought the underwear!
Grissom: Well, if that's true, then you were in a store where little children were shopping with their mothers.
Marlon: And what would you have me do, huh, man? What?! I mean, I even thought about chemical castration.
Grissom: Medroxyprogesterone is inconclusive. It renders the subject incapable of erection, but it doesn't remove the drive. You would still be capable of sexual assault using other objects.
Marlon: Listen... um, I haven't done anything, uh, illegal, so you can't hold me in here forever. Oh, is that killing look in your eyes a compulsion, Mr. Grissom?

Mia: Hey. Want to talk about semen?
Sara: Okay. (Mia hands Sara the file) Okey-dokey.
Mia: The semen on the vic's doorknob and the neighbor's doorknob is consistent with Trip's DNA. So, I'm thinking that Trip put a trophy condom on his neighbor's door and then transferred a trace of his reproductive material back onto his own doorknob.
Sara: You've uh, you've heard of trophy condoms?
Mia (chuckles): Sara, I went to college.

Mia: Nine vibrators, five plugs and four strands of beads.
Greg: And a partidge in a pear tree. Some kids are happy playing in the sandbox, others want every toy in the store. And apparently these are dishwasher safe.
Mia: I'll swab the nooks and crannies for semen and vaginal secretions and epthelials, but don't get your hopes up.
Greg: Oh, my money's on bag number two.
Mia: Twenty-six used condoms.
Greg: Just like being back in college, right?
Mia: Sara said you didn't lose your virginity until you were twenty-two.
Greg [Ignoring her]: Grissom and I figured that they practiced safe sex so we checked their trash. Check them inside and out, please.
Mia: I've analyzed condoms before, Greg. Just not in bulk.

Mr. Durbin: Sons of bitches! I'm gonna sue your ass into the ground. I hope you know that. Yeah. I'm gonna own you. I'm gonna own this whole place. In fact, maybe that's where I'll live. I'm just gonna move in here.
Catherine: Let me guess, he lawyered up?
Brass: Yeah. He stopped talking right after I told him we blew up his house.

Nick: I've never seen junkies shoot up in the face before.
Woman: It's not smack, it's silicone. Gives you good cheek bones.
Mercedes: The ones who can't buy silicone... shoot motor oil.
Nick: Do they?
Mercedes: Calm down, pretty boy. We're not the monsters. The real freaks are the suit-and-ties want to take a walk on the wild side, before sneaking back to the wife and kids. Want to go?
Nick (shakes his head): Mm-mm.

Nick: What's going on out here?
Police officer: Well, an anonymous 911 caller reported body parts in this area. I rolled, and found this. [Shines flashlight on a pile of intestines]
Nick: Mmm, tasty.

Rick Dysart: (to Grissom after sweeping the garage for bombs) Only one thing you need to worry about: If you see me running, make sure you keep up.