It’s a Belgian beer, sweetie. Please tell me you’ve at least heard of it. (Blaine) Boy, I was born in Brussels and the last time I checked, this was my new homeland, America, not my birthplace. So you can either order an American-made beer or I’ll bring you water and you can sit there and act all superior until you puke, okay? (Aimee)

And you haven’t been betrayed yet, Nick. You don’t know what that’s like. What it does to you. The scars it leaves that never fade. (Ambrose)

There are certain irregularities which are not the subject of criminal law. But when the criminal law happens to be auxiliary to the law of morality, I do not feel any inclination to explain it away.

I’m stuck fighting. (Acheron) You’re stuck fighting. But you’re welcome to come share my beach any time you get tired of the brawl. (Savitar) Save me a spot. If this blows up in my face, I’ll be back with my tail forever tucked between my legs. (Acheron)

Looks like I’m going to ruin your day, Big Boy. I choose to live my crappy life a little longer. (Susan)

Yeah, well, to hear you talk, most men should come with warning labels. (She lifted her hands up to frame her next statement.) Attention, please, Psycho Alert. Me, he-man, am prone to nasty mood swings, lengthy pouts, and possess the ability to tell a woman the truth about her weight without warning. (Selena)

You were impaled? (Delphine) You know the worst part about impalement? You don’t die immediately. You hang on bleeding and aching as the spike works its way slowly through your body until it pierces some major organ. Pray to the gods you worship that you never know what that feels like. (Jericho)