Shawn: I can't believe you actually thought that text was from me. It lacked all nuance, my signature mocking tone, and was utterly devoid of emoticons.

Shawn: I can't reach my back pocket. You'll have to punch me in the ass.
Gus: You must be out of your mind.
Shawn: Sock me in the butt.
Gus: No, Shawn.

Shawn: I don't lose things. I place things in locations which later elude me.
Gus: That's the same thing as losing it.
Shawn: Maybe to those without the nuance chromosome.

Shawn: I don't think anyone's here.
Gus: How sure are you?
Shawn: Fairly to pretty damn.

Shawn: I got roped into doing a silly interview with The Independent. They've been calling me, begging, for weeks, and I finally relented.
Reporter: You called me.
Shawn: And you called me back, which means we're both right.

Shawn: I got the information because...I'm psychic.
Lassiter: Get him out of here!
Shawn: Oh boy! (Leans against the door, looks at Officer Allen) Your grandmother would be so proud.
Allen:: You spoke to her?
Shawn: I did. She's safe, comfortable. She wants you to stop spending all your money on those charlatans.
Allen: The palm readers?
Shawn: The palm readers.
Barry: Okay, just to be clear, um, you're claiming to be a psychic, Mr. Spencer.
Shawn: (Moves his hands around until one is pointing at Lassiter and the other at Barry) How else would I know that you two are sleeping together? 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3, 1... (Turns to Officer McNab) When's the wedding?
McNab: May 3rd - wait, how'd you know?
Shawn: I'm getting dance lessons for a wedding reception and you are getting good!
McNab: Wow. That's amazing!
Lassiter: Oh come on, who is buying this!
(Allen, McNab, and a guy in a nearby jail cell raise their hands)

Shawn: I have an idea, but we'll need cool names.

Shawn: I just want to beat Gus and Lassiter!
Juliet: And catch the killer?
Shawn: Yeah sure, if that's what it takes.

Shawn: I like to call it very close talking.

Shawn: I look up to Brett Favre, but that doesn't mean I believe everything he says. [pauses] All right, that's a bad example. It's those tearful press conferences, man. They get me every time.

Shawn: I see a man... He's driving your car... You don't know him... He's a valet, at a mall! Wait, I see a shoe store, your father's gold card, a Jamba Juice may have been involved.
Bianca: Oh, my God, I totally went shopping today! And I passed a Jamba on State Street! You are amazing.

Shawn: I solve a case every week. And usually one around Christmas.

Shawn: I think I broke my back, and my neck, and my arm.
Gus: That's nothing, I just bruised my coccyx.
Shawn: Say what?
Gus: You know what I mean.
Shawn: I certainly do not.
Gus: When I get home I'm definitely going to have to rub oil on my coccyx.
Shawn: Gus, please, that is disgusting.
Gus: What? A deep tissue massage is definitely what my coccyx needs.
Shawn: Would you stop saying that word!?
Gus: Coccyx? That's what it's called Shawn!

Shawn: I think your shirt, and his shirt, should get together and go bowling.

Shawn: I want to see your book.
Robert: My book?
Shawn: Yeah, the one with things that Despereaux might steal.
Robert: But nobody ever wants to see my book.
Shawn: I do; I want to see the book. [Takes waffles off of desk] I'm also going to eat these waffles.