|(asking about Mark Moody, the guy Dean considers to be the ghost)
Sam: You're sure it's him?
Dean: Pretty sure.
Sam: Considering our circumstances I'm gonna need a little bit better than 'pretty sure'.
Dean: Really pretty sure.
|Dean: (lining for noodles at prison) I'd like mine al dente.|
|Dean: I said I'd like a baseball. You know, like Steve McQueen.
Lucas: Yeah? Well, I wish I had a bat so to bash your freaking head in.
Dean: Yeah. That's so much for a binding solitary moment
|Dean: (after winning a poker game and collecting the won cigarettes) It's like picking low hanging fruits.
Sam: You don't even smoke.
Dean: You're kidding me? It's the currency of the realm.
|Dean: How do we get in?
Sam: I got a plan.
Dean: That's the Sammy I know. Come on, man, you are like Clint Eastwood from 'Escape from Alcatraz'.
Sam: The problem is even if we do find something, how are we gonna burn it? We don't have any accelerator.
Dean: It's good thing I'm like James Garner from 'The Great Escape'. (continues collecting the cigarettes)
|Dean: Save room for dessert, Tiny, hehe. Hey, I'd wanna ask you, 'cos I couldn't not notice you are two tones of fun. Just curious, is this like thyroid problem or is this some deep self-esteem issue? 'Cause you know, they're just donuts, they're not love.|
|(receiving letter from the lawyer)
Dean: Would you look at that? I'm freaking velvety smooth.
Sam: You may wanna be open it up after, you know, you're done slapping yourself on the back?
|(after finding Impala outside the prison)
Dean: Oh man, you're a sight for sore eyes.
|Sam: I thought we were screwed before.
Dean: Yeah, yeah, I know, we gotta go deep this time.
Sam: Deep? Dean, we should go to Yemen!
Dean: I'm not sure I'm ready to go that deep.
|(Dean has just told Tiny he provoked him)
Tiny: It's okay. My dad treated my brother and me like crap, right up until the day he died.
Dean: How'd he die?
Tiny: My brother shot him.
|Dean: You know this chicken ain't half bad.
Sam: Great, finish mine.
|Henricksen: I’d say for you two screwed to hell is a major understatement.
Dean: Well where there is life there is hope.
Henricksen: See, that’s what I kept thinking as I was searching for your asses all over hell and gone.
|Mara: Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in here?
Dean: I've got a vague notion.
|Dean: I mean come on man, this place has all the signs of a haunting. Innocent people are dead, four so far.
Sam: (laughs) Yeah, innocent?
Dean: What, are you from Texas all of a sudden?
|Sam: I hate this plan, Dean.
Dean: Yeah, I got that the first ten times I heard it.
|Henricksen: Near went nuts trying to find you. Ask him.
Reidy: (deadpan) He near went nuts.
|Sam: How you doing?
Randall: I’m 54 years old, mopping the floors of a crapper with bars on the window. How do you think I’m doing?
Sam: All right. Bad icebreaker
|Randall: Why you inside, kid?
Sam: 'Cause I got an idiot for a brother.
Randall: That’ll do it.
|Randall: I’ve heard these stories. I don’t know if they’re true. Cons love to talk, but we’re all liars.|
|Sam: (about being in jail) Dean, this is without a doubt the dumbest, craziest thing we've ever done. And that's in a long storied career of dumb and crazy.
Dean: Calm down. It's all part of the plan.
Sam: So Hendrickson showing up was part of the plan?
Dean: Yeah, the guy moves a little faster than I thought. All we gotta do is find the ghost, put the sucker down, and then grab ourselves a couple of those tear drop tattoos
|Dean: My roommate didn't say much, how's yours?
Sam: Just keeps staring at me... in a way that makes me really uneasy.
Dean: Sounds like you're making new friends.
|Dean: Don't worry, Sam. I promise I won't trade you for smokes|
|Sam: You heard it on the yard?
Sam: Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?
Dean: No, not really.
|(Dean and Lucas are in solitary)
Lucas: I wish I had a bat, so I could bash your friggin' head in.
Dean: Well, so much for the bonding-in-solitary moment.
|Henricksen: You think you're funny?
Dean: I think I'm adorable.
|Sam: You heard in the yard?
Sam: Dean, doesn't it bother you how well you seem to fit in here?
Sam: No, not really.
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