[last lines]
Teddy Daniels: You know, this place makes me wonder.
Chuck Aule: Yeah, what's that, boss?
Teddy Daniels: Which would be worse – to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?
[gets up and walks off]
Chuck Aule: Teddy?

[last lines]
Teddy Daniels: You know, this place makes me wonder.
Chuck Aule: Yeah, what's that, boss?
Teddy Daniels: Which would be worse – to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?
[gets up and walks off]
Chuck Aule: Teddy?
[first lines]
Patrick Kenzie: I always believed it was the things you don't choose that makes you who you are. Your city, your neighborhood, your family. People here take pride in these things, like it was something they'd accomplished. The bodies around their souls, the cities wrapped around those. I lived on this block my whole life; most of these people have. When your job is to find people who are missing, it helps to know where they started. I find the people who started in the cracks and then fell through. This city can be hard. When I was young, I asked my priest how you could get to heaven and still protect yourself from all the evil in the world. He told me what God said to His children. "You are sheep among wolves. Be wise as serpents, yet innocent as doves."
Charlie: Who took this picture?
Raymond: D-A-D.
Charlie: And you lived with us?
Raymond: Yeah, 10962 Beachcrest Street, Cincinnati, Ohio.
Charlie: When did you leave?
Raymond: January 12, 1965. Very snowy that day. 7.2 inches of snow that day.
Charlie: Just after Mom died.
Raymond: Yeah Mom died January 5, 1965.
Charlie: You remember that day. Was I there? Where was I?
Raymond: You were in the window. You waved to me, "Bye bye Rain Man", "Bye bye."
Lindsay: Don't you believe there is someone for everyone?
Frank: Close. I believe that there is nobody for anyone.
[last lines]
Teddy Daniels: You know, this place makes me wonder.
Chuck Aule: Yeah, what's that, boss?
Teddy Daniels: Which would be worse – to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?
[gets up and walks off]
Chuck Aule: Teddy?
Hani: You know you can always tell who cares about you the most by who comes first to visit you in the hospital.
Alan Rittenhouse: I know you're just a reporter, but you used to be a person, right?
Danny Archer: Sometimes I wonder… will God ever forgive us for what we've done to each other? Then I look around and I realize… God left this place a long time ago.
[at Gareth's funeral]
Matthew: Gareth used to prefer funerals to weddings. He said it was easier to get enthusiastic about a ceremony one had an outside chance of eventually being involved in. In order to prepare this speech, I rang a few people, to get a general picture of how Gareth was regarded by those who met him: 'Fat' seems to have been a word people most connected with him. 'Terribly rude' also rang a lot of bells. So very 'fat' and very 'rude' seems to have been a stranger's viewpoint. On the other hand, some of you have been kind enough to ring me and let me know that you loved him, which I know he would have been thrilled to hear. You remember his fabulous hospitality, his strange experimental cooking: the recipe for "Duck à la Banana" fortunately goes with him to his grave. Most of all, you tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness. But I hope joyful is how you will remember him, not stuck in a box in a church. Pick your favourite of his waistcoats and remember him that way. The most splendid, replete, big-hearted, weak-hearted as it turned out, and jolly bugger most of us ever met. As for me, you may ask how I will remember him, what I thought of him. Unfortunately, there I run out of words. Perhaps you will forgive me if I turn from my own feelings to the words of another splendid bugger: W.H. Auden. This is actually what I want to say: "Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead, Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'. Put crepe bows 'round the white necks of the public doves, Let traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest; My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
Graham Winslow: [Travis Burke introduces Amy and Graham Winslow to his new partner Maria, who expresses her adoration for Graham's Atticus Keller novels.] I like your new partner.
Travis Burke: Well, you know I only work with Graham Winslow fans.