The Carver: Amazing drug, isn't it? It's a rarefied form of metachurine chloride. They use it on psych patients...causes a kind of 'waking coma'...should wear off in a few minutes...mmm....it's like a plane crash though...a few minutes away to hit the ground can feel like a lifetime. Awful feeling...being totally helpless...having no control...that's how most people spend their lives...slaves to the tyranny of beauty...carb counting, kick-boxing and chemical peels. I'm rescuing them from all that...and you are destroying...my...work. They call me the 'Carver'. You're the 'Carver'. Fifty noses all the same. A thousand flawless breasts. You're the monster carving what's beautiful and real out of life.

The Carver: Beauty is a curse on the world. It keeps us from seeing who the real monsters are.

Young Doctor: [referring to Sean, who's just survived a car accident] Hey, that's my patient!
Christian: And he's my partner and best friend. Why would I leave his mug in your inexperienced hands? I have pubic hair older than you!

[Christian and James at lunch together]
Christian: The jig is up, sweetheart. It's time to take your little whore and pony show to a different city. Michelle told me about your escort ring.
James: We haven't even ordered the wine yet, Dr. Troy. Shall we share a bottle of Pinot Noir? I know we both enjoy the darker varietals.