Lassiter: You solved all these crimes - what was it - watching the local channel 8 news reports?
Shawn: All right, I confess, that's not true. Sometimes I watch channel 5. I prefer channel 8. The weather girl? Adorable.
Lassiter: So you're telling us that you can read guilt off of TV interviews?
Shawn: Can't you?

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)

Gus: You named your fake detective agency "Psych"? As in "gotcha"? Why didn't you just call it "Hey, we're fooling you and the police department; hope we don't make a mistake and somebody dies because of it."
Shawn: First of all, Gus, that name is entirely too long; it would never fit on the window. And secondly, the best way you convince people you're not lying to them is to tell them you are!

Lassiter: Don't you try and trivialize police work.
Shawn: I think you're doing a bang-up job of that all by yourself.

Lassiter: You have a criminal record.
Shawn: I was 18.
Lassiter: Oh, 18? Well that makes it okay, let me just scratch this out.

Gus: You're dating a murderer!
Shawn: Not exclusively.

Gus: Alright, whatever, who kidnapped him?
Shawn: Nobody.
Gus: Nobody! Excellent! Call the chief at home, tell 'em the crime is solved. Because apparently, we just imagined the whole thing!

Shawn: (kissing waitress, grabs phone)
Waitress: What are you doing?
Shawn: I'm calling the police.
Waitress: Any particular reason?
Shawn: I think I just solved a case.
Waitress: You didn't tell me you're a cop...
Shawn: Me? Oh god, no. Wait! Does that disappoint you?
Waitress: No, I just thought you might have handcuffs...
Shawn: (grins) Oh, I have handcuffs.

Shawn: This is a great plan! Camden McCallum deserves to be commended.
Gus: Maybe you should date him too!
Shawn: Maybe I will!

Gus: You don't smell that?
Shawn: I don't smell anything.
Gus: That's because you don't have the Super Smeller!
Shawn: Okay, you have got to stop calling your nose the Super Smeller. If you want to nickname a body part, nickname your butt, man. Call it the Tight-Bouncer or the Hexagon. Ladies are gonna dig that.Bold text

Shawn: I'm kind of a slave to my visions. I'm a slave.

Shawn: Kudos on the childrearing. Let me know how the therapy goes.

Shawn: Actually, we'd like to start with the contestants still in the running. And let's start with the shifty-eyed ones!

Shawn: Dude, what is your glitch?

Shawn: Banana.
Speller 118: Can you repeat that?
Shawn: Yes. Ba-NA-na.
Gus: [whispering] Banana, Shawn? It's the third round.
Shawn: [whispering] You could have helped me.
Gus: [whispering] This is a dead end, Shawn. We're leaving.
Speller 118: Definition, please.
Shawn: [to himself] What...?
Shawn: [into the microphone] A yellow fruit. Also, a kind of pudding. A delicious pudding.
Speller 118: Sentence, please.
Shawn: Anna Banana would like to hear "Venus" by Bananarama. Banana!
Speller 118: B-A-N-A-N-A. Banana.