D'Angelo: Now you think Ronald McDonald gonna go down to the basement and say, "Hey Mr. Nugget - you the bomb. We sellin' chicken faster than you can tear the bone out. So I'm gonna write my clowney ass name on this fat-ass check for you." Shit. Man, the nigga who invented them things? Still working in the basement for regular wage, thinking of some shit to make the fries taste better or some shit like that. Believe.

D'Angelo: Where's Wallace at? ... Where's the boy, String?
Stringer: D'Angelo, shut your mouth.
D'Angelo: Where's Wallace? That's all I wanna know.
Levy: Kid, you better think...
D'Angelo: Where's Wallace? Where the fuck is Wallace? Huh? Huh? String? String? Look at me! Where the fuck is Wallace? HUH!? I don't want this Payless-wearing motherfucker representing me. I'ma get my own man. So just get back in your car and get the fuck back down south.
Stringer: A'ight, you stupid motherfucker, you made your decision.
D'Angelo: Yeah, I made my decision. Where's Wallace at? Where the fuck is Wallace? Where's Wallace, String? String! Where the fuck is Wallace? Huh? Stringer?!

D'Angelo: Yeah, but, Stringer, if you don't pay a nigga, he ain't gonna work for you.
Stringer: What, you think a nigga's gonna get a job? You think...you think it's gonna be like, 'Fuck it, let me quit this game here and go to college'? No, they're gonna buck a little, but they ain't gonna walk. And in the end, you gonna get respect.

D.C. Guy: [about D'Angelo's death] But did your man Avon even knew about it? [Stringer shakes his head] You on your own here huh?
Stringer: You right, it ain't none of your business. And if I were you, I wouldn't let a word of this mess end up in Avon's ear.
D.C. Guy: Baltimore nigga's off the hook, I swear. All ya'll.

Daniels: [about McNulty] You ever see how a dog gets when he smells a bone buried in the yard?
Rawls: Yeah, and I seen one take a shit on my carpet, too. And don't give me that he's-got-that-fire-in-the-belly garbage, either. The answer is no.

Daniels: [To Carver] Couple weeks from now, you're gonna be in some district somewhere with 11 or 12 uniforms looking to you for everything. And some of them are gonna be good police. Some of them are gonna be young and stupid. A few are gonna be pieces of shit. But all of them will take their cue from you. You show loyalty, they learn loyalty. You show them it's about the work, it'll be about the work. You show them some other kinda game, then that's the game they'll play. I came on in the Eastern, and there was a piece-of-shit lieutenant hoping to be a captain, piece-of-shit sergeants hoping to be lieutenants. Pretty soon we had piece-of-shit patrolmen trying to figure the job for themselves. And some of what happens then is hard as hell to live down. Comes a day you're gonna have to decide whether it's about you or about the work.

Daniels: [to Major Valchek] I'll tell you the truth Major. Everyone who saw the punch wrote on it. And they've all got Prez throwing the punch, no question. They've also got you addressing a subordinate officer as uh, what was it? A shit-bird?
Valchek: Fuck you. This is the Baltimore Police Department, not the Roland Park Ladies Tea.

Daniels: Detective Freamon, you have carte blanche in picking your squad. In fact, you can pick your supervisor, for all I care. Motherfucker, as far as I'm concerned, you are the Major Crimes Unit. It's morning in Baltimore, Lester. Wake up and smell the coffee.

Daniels: Detective McNulty,... when the cuffs go on Stringer you need to find a new home. You're done in this unit.

Daniels: I'll swallow a lie when I have to; I've swallowed a few big ones lately. But the stat games? That lie? It's what ruined this department. Shining up shit and calling it gold so majors become colonels and mayors become governors. Pretending to do policework while one generation fucking trains the next how not to do the job. And then-[catches himself, and sighs] I looked Carcetti in the eye, I shook his hand, I asked him if he was for real. Well, this is the lie I can't live with.

Daniels: Motherfucker, why didn't you call in sick?
McNulty: I'm not sick.
Daniels: Yeah, you are. Write me up a 95 on why you are physically unable to participate in today's activities.
McNulty: You want me to lie so you can save face?
Daniels: Go on. "I can't jump off with the rest of my unit because my tummy hurts."

Daniels: So, one thieving politician trumps twenty-two bodies? Good to know.

Daniels: Where are the detectives who were first assigned?
Valchek: Dead. To me, anyway. I shipped them humps back to Burrell as fast as I could.

Dealer: [while being thrown in the police truck] Hey, we in America!
Officer Santangelo: Nuh-uh, West Baltimore.

Dr David Parenti: We get the grant, we study the problem, we propose solutions. If they listen, they listen. If they don't, it still makes for great research. What we publish on this is gonna get a lot of attention.
Colvin: From who?
Dr David Parenti: From other researchers, academics.
Howard "Bunny" Colvin: Academics?! What, they gonn' study your study? [chuckles and shakes head] When do this shit change?