Rikki Sandoval: (about Ollie) If he hadn't robbed that store, Ruben would still be alive.
Danny: I know you think that but if I would a stayed with Ruben, and made sure he got home, he'd be alive. That's all I had to do, was stay with him.

Rikki: Last night was just sex. Before my son died, you were just a guy that I smiled at in the hallway and joked with at the mailboxes. What are we doing?
Danny: (cupping her face in his hands): Making each other feel better because Reuben's gone. There's nothing wrong with that. (kisses Rikki).
Rikki: Danny... One day you're gonna wake up and realize that Ruben's death wasn't your fault. Yes he was with you when he was shot but it was an accident. And me, can't you see, I'm just taking advantage of the guilt you feel so that I don't have to be alone.
Danny: I don't care. I don't care cause I just want this hurt to go away. Don't you?
(Rikki nods her head, Danny kisses her again)
Rikki: I really should go...
Danny: Ok, but this is my shirt and I'm gonna need my shirt back, okay. Before you go...
(Danny starts to unbutton the shirt and kisses her again, Rikki gives in)

Sandra Polk: Demon and I had an interesting relationship. Rivals from afar, I guess you'd say. I heard what happened to him.
Lindsay: He was wearing a suit just like yours when he died. Do you have any idea where he got it?
Sandra Polk: Word got out he broke a 100 miles per hour. So I sent him a suit, along with some ceramic bearings.
Danny: It's awfully nice of you to send a gift to someone who just broke your speed record.
Sandra Polk: My record's official. His wasn't. But I was curious to see what he could do with some real gear. An even playing field.
Danny: Did you ride Graveyard night before last?
Lindsay: We walked that stretch of road. We found one of your wheels melted. It had accelerant all over it.
Danny: It's the same juice that sent Demon to hell.
Sandra Polk: All right. I went out there. My sponsors would kill me if they knew I was racing unofficially. But I just wanted to see if I could match Demon's speed on the same course... I got up to about 96. Then I flamed out.
Danny: Anyone out there to see the sparks fly?
Sandra Polk: No. I didn't want anyone to know I was there.
Lindsay: Why not?
Danny: ��Cause you were nervous that you'd lose your title, right? That prize money and endorsements on the line. You didn't want to get burned by the underdog. So you decided to burn him first and send him a spiked suit.
Sandra Polk: Look, I don't have a clue who killed Demon. But I can tell you one thing. It wasn't me. You guys think we're just a bunch of street-happy skate punks. But this sport is my life. The last thing I'm gonna do is screw it up by taking someone else's.

Sheldon Hawkes: In theory, if you built a machine that could travel the speed of light away from here, then slowed down, turned around and flew home just as fast, when you got back, a trip that might have lasted just seconds for you, could've been weeks for everybody else.
Don Flack: Kinda like your explanation.

Sheldon Hawkes: What about the trace I collected from her arm?
Lindsay Monroe: Latex. More specifically, condom spray.
Danny Messer: (Amused) 'Scuse me? What? I didn't catch that.
Lindsay Monroe: Liquid rubber (Holds the spray can, smiling) German engineering at its finest.
Sheldon Hawkes: I'm not sure I understand.
Lindsay Monroe: Well, allow me to demonstrate (Grabs a big test-tube) Contrary to what you might have heard, science definitely does matter (Starts spraying the content of the can on the test-tube) Simply, apply like so. Allow a few moments for maximum drying time and... Boom! Instant condom. (Hands test tube to Danny)
Sheldon Hawkes: Are you serious? A spray-on condom?
Danny Messer: What... Where does the... The... (Points at the top of the test-tube) Now how... Never mind.

Sheriff Benson: (about the crime scene) This one's gonna be covered differently.
Danny: Why is that?
Sheriff Benson: Thirty-one years ago the former owner, Bill Willens shot himself in this house. Two days later, his daughter disappeared. Bill's wife, Betty, claims her husband was hearing voices. He told people the house was possessed by evil spirits.
Lindsay: Just like The Amityville Horror.
Sheriff Benson: All I know is the folks inside this house were good people. For Gil Duncan to shoot his family, commit suicide... there's gotta be an explanation other than ghosts made him do it.

Sheriff Benson: All I'm saying is people come to town and get caught up in the folklore.
Lindsay Monroe: Do we look like we're here buying postcards?

Sid: (about the hydrofluoric acid that killed the teacher) Do you have any idea how often I've wondered what would happen if you swallowed this stuff. And there it is sitting on the shelf, perhaps the most corrosive acid known to man. You just get that urge to take a swig, you know what I'm talking about?
Mac: Absolutely. Like when ever I pick up a scalpel, I wonder if I could perform a live autopsy on myself.
Sid: You do that too, 'cuz I thought I was... (turns to realize Mac is joking) Don't play with me like that.

Sid: (about their burn victim) Face with no name is simply a face. And your victim's helmet preserved his quite well, but it hasn't helped me make an I.D. Yet.
Danny: To think I ever opposed the helmet law.
Sid: Well, not so fast. That skull bucket also contributed to what killed him.
Danny: You mean, it wasn't the fact that he was on fire with a high speed impact with a fire truck?
Sid: Imagine your victim catches fire. A helmet starts to fill up with toxic fumes. He panics, struggling to get it off, which only increases the rate of smoke inhalation. Result was direct toxicity to the cardiac muscle.
Mac: C.O.D. was smoke inhalation.
Sid: And death was near instantaneous.
Danny: What about the stab wounds?
Sid: Turned out to be minor injuries inflicted with a meat thermometer.
Danny: Whoa. Wha'? A meat thermometer? Who stabs somebody with a meat thermometer?
Sid: Cannibal? It's anyone's guess. Severity of charring was significantly greater above his ankles than below...And based on the degree of trauma to the bones, I'd say your human comet's rate of speed was at least 80 mph at the time of impact.
Danny: 80?! What was he doing to be moving that fast?
Sid: Now keep in mind that I'm simply a pathologist, but the injuries to this victim, well frankly, they appear consistent....with him re-entering the Earth's atmosphere. Now until you come up with some evidence that says otherwise, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Sid: (after assessing the vic's cause of death) I'm guessing she was held captive for a long time, tortured and possibly drugged. Any theories?
Mac: This woman murdered people for a living. She was highly skilled. She probably trained to endure torture. Whatever her killer was after, she didn't give it up easily.
Sid: Or give it up at all.

Sid: (scratching at his arms and shoulders during the post) All right, then, ladies, unless there's something else?
Stella: There is one more thing, Sid. Mucuna pruriens. In India, they're also known as velvet-bean, cow-itch, but here in the United States, we usually call it itching powder. (hands him the evidence bag with a packet as Lindsay starts laughing)
Sid: Oh, no, oh, no...
Stella: It looks like he stuck it in his pocket, and after the blast, it wound up dispersed on his clothes.
Sid: (looking between the two women) Why aren't you...
Stella: A long-sleeved lab coat. Both stylish and functional.
Sid: Exploding cigars, insect ice-cubes, itching powder... what kind of a clown are we after?

Sid: (showing Sheldon and Danny the cell phone that was pulled from the vic) My first dead ringer. (Danny laughs a bit)

Sid: (walking into the lab with Stella) Our vic's body couldn't help but remind me of my Great-Uncle Andy.
Stella: Oh, hearing that is enough to make any model break into tears.
Sid: (chuckling) Oh, no, there's no physical resemblance, although he was in freakishly superior shape for an octogenarian. But no, what I mean is Uncle Andy would never finish telling a story. Every time you thought he was done, he'd find something more to say.

Sid: First vic I've not had to wash in some time - clean as they come!

Sinclair: (to Flack) You know, the NYPD has a strict policy against high-speed chases. Or did you forget that?
Flack: No, sir.
Sinclair: The next time you want to run up a $60 cab fare, you do that on your own time. You're lucky no one got hurt.