Mac: Our informant is a cellmate of a suspect we convicted six months ago in connection with a human-trafficking ring here in New York City.
Ray Langston: A little cellmate chitchat, and a convict looking to make a deal... that's hard to trust.
Mac: True, but right now, we're standing here with nothing. And I kind of got the impression you weren't here to sightsee.

Mac: Sam Harding was an inventor. This room, maybe this entire penthouse was his greatest creation.
Flack: Okay. Knowing that, how do we find Richard Lawson?
Mac: We play Sam Harding's game.
Stella: Things just got a lot more difficult.
Mac: (ominous) And a lot more dangerous.

Mac: Sam was there. Maybe he can point us in the right direction.
Flack: I don't think he's ready, Mac. You should've seen him in that room. That line-up took a lot out of him. He was looking directly at Cook, but he wouldn't identify him.
Mac: Then we'll have to find another way.
Sam Harris: I think I can do it. I think I can show you guys what happened.

Mac: Something's off, though. Based on the complaint of the first robbery, Jesse stared right at the guy. Why'd the I.D. go south?
Stella: Well, you know how unreliable eyewitnesses can be, especially when they're staring down the barrel of a gun.

Mac: That's the victim, but who's the other guy?
Stella: They're both James Manning. The moment I saw him, I knew there was something familiar about him. And then when I saw that scar on his hand... I ran him through CARS for past collars and came up with this booking photo.
Mac: It's hard to believe they're the same person.
Stella: Put some meat on his bones and a shave and he looks like a completely different guy.
Mac: It's never a good thing when you look better in the autopsy photo than you do when you're alive.

Mac: That's the victim, but who's the other guy?
Stella: They're both James Manning. The moment I saw him, I knew there was something familiar about him. And then when I saw that scar on his hand... I ran him through CARS for past collars and came up with this booking photo.
Mac: It's hard to believe they're the same person.
Stella: Put some meat on his bones and a shave and he looks like a completely different guy.
Mac: It's never a good thing when you look better in the autopsy photo than you do when you're alive.

Mac: These guys aren't looking to kill, they're looking to scare.
Danny: Yeah, well, then why don't they use something other than guns?
Mac: No, think about it. All that gunfire, there's been one fatality. And at both the scene last night and the restaurant, most of the damage was to the awning and the top of the building. Their weapon of choice? Style SPP auto-machine pistol, small weapon, high-recoil, certainly not known for accuracy.
Stella: So these thugs are in the business of fear. They want the entire city to be at their mercy.

Mac: We're gonna need blueprints of that prison. Everything you can get your hands on. Electrical systems, service corridors, every single access point.
Stella: You really think we can do this?
Lindsay: What? What are you thinking?
Mac: We're gonna have to break Hawkes out of prison

Mac: You chose people who were vulnerable and broken. People you knew had nobody to question your motives. What's it like to live without a conscience?
Grace Chandler: It's like being rich. Something you probably know nothing about.
Mac: Putting people like you away for the rest of your life, doing good... that makes me rich. Something you probably know nothing about.

McCanna Boyd Taylor: New York City Police Department's the best in the country. You've had your war, son. Take the job.
Mac: Dad...
McCanna Boyd Taylor: Claire's from New York, huh? She has family there. You're gonna need their help when... babies start coming.
Mac: (almost laughing) Whoa, Dad. We just got married. And I was thinking that maybe I'd... if I do retire, maybe I'd move back to Chicago for a while.
McCanna Boyd Taylor: No, son. There's no need for you to be here. I've had a good life. You need to live yours.
Mac: Dad...
McCanna Boyd Taylor: You've served... your country, Mac. Pick up the phone. Make the call. Take the job. Promise me... you'll make the call.
Mac: I promise.

Mrs. Harris: I know Sam's a witness and you need his help, but he just lost his father, and now his brother's here in the hospital, and... he's just a kid. He can't handle all these questions. I think he needs a break right now.

Ray Langston: (as they gear up at the junk yard) Did you know that the oldest projectile fired from a weapon was recorded in the fourteenth century in Japan? It was fired from a very crude handheld cannon that you lit with a wick. Its sole purpose was for taking life. Seems that after 1,700 years of evolution we haven't come very far, have we?

Ray Langston: It never gets easier, does it?
Mac: No. I've told parents about their dead or missing kids more times than I can count. Hell, the first time was one time too many. One day, a woman whispers thank you to me through her tears. And I realized that she just needed to know that there was somebody doing everything they could for her child. And that's what you're doing, Ray. And that's worth a phone call.

Sam Harding: (flashback, on the phonograph to Walter Jones) A sad, painful song. A song of lies and betrayal, heartbreaking. But a song can only make you feel so much. It's no substitute for real suffering. That's why I invited you to my home. Everything I worked for, you stole it and sold it to the highest bidder and kept the money. My money. Then you bought off the judge and made me look like a liar. So while you made millions, I invested my unrewarded ingenuity and hard work into making this place a lesson in pain, lies, and betrayal. You may be smart enough to steal my inventions, but let us see if you are smart enough to survive them. (Walter tries to run from the room, steps on a tile that gives way releasing the angel-wing knives, and knocking him to the floor, fatally wounded. Sam puts the broken phonograph pieces in Walters' pockets, walks out of the penthouse and locks the door as Sam dies inside)

Scott Coleman: (whistfully about Kristen Melvoy) After we moved here, she...started dieting, got hair extensions, fixed her teeth, wanted her breasts enlarged. When she got into that lingerie-football league, she thought that was her ticket to fame and fortune. Next thing you know, that girl from Seattle was ancient history. So was our engagement.