| GRISSOM: Yeah, sounds like these boys went to a fight and a hockey game broke out. (�Primum Non Nocere�) CATHERINE: So...I guess our guy is about three things - pucks, bucks, and...chicks. (�Primum Non Nocere�) SARA: Take your pick. Testing for blood on a hockey jersey it's like handing out jaywalking tickets at a marathon. GREG: Well, speaking on a meta-level...isn't it obvious? The overbearing patriarchal structure of modern organised sports represents a socially palatable sublimation of what Jung refers to as the "Shadow of the Unconscious." SARA: You sucked at team sports, huh? GREG: I was captain of the high school chess squad. SARA: Chess is not a sport, Greg. GREG: Then why is there a World Chess Champion? SARA: I think sports are physical by definition. GREG: Well, sex is physical. Is that a sport? SARA: Not to me. (�Primum Non Nocere�) SARA: With all the sex these people are having maybe I should take up hockey. (�Primum Non Nocere�) NICK: Hey, "Sara". If you come up here on your nights off, people are going to start confusing the two of you. WARRICK: You're here. (�Primum Non Nocere�) SARA: I found some boot prints on the prayer room rug. Monks don't wear boots, right, Nick? NICK: No, no, or read porn or commit murder. (�Felonius Monk�) GREG: Results from the colored material found at the crime scene. I'm trying to be humble, but once again I have the case breaker. (�Felonius Monk�) GRISSOM: Firefighters only look in the obvious spots. GREG: Just out of curiosity, what are the unobvious spots? GRISSOM: For bodies? GREG: Yeah. GRISSOM: Walls, hot water heaters stuffed in the box spring of a hotel room bed. I found a head in a bucket of paint once. GREG: I get the picture. (�Chasing the Bus�) GRISSOM: Good, Greg. Did you enjoy being in the field? GREG: You heard about it, too? GRISSOM: What? GREG: That I...messed up. GRISSOM: No. GREG: Well, then...I enjoyed it fine. (�Chasing the Bus�) NICK: I thought I got my hands on all those departmental newsletters. Where'd you get those? WARRICK AND SARA: Greg. NICK: Yeah, that figures. (�Stalker�) SARA: How's it going? GRISSOM: How's Nick doing? SARA: Well, groggy. How's the epic? CATHERINE: Epic. (�Stalker�) SARA: Did you know there's a dozen moving parts inside a ticking clock? NICK: I do now. (�Cats in the Cradle�) GREG: Before you ask that swab of yours, from the end cap, let's play "name that chemical compound." Today's category: "Explosives." 30 seconds on the clock. (�Cats in the Cradle�) NICK: You know, when I was 16, I begged my mom for a car. Swore she'd come through. SARA: What happened? NICK: Encyclopedia Britannica. (�Cats in the Cradle�) GREG: Yeah, I'm like a sponge. I just absorb information. GRISSOM: I thought that was my line. GREG: Yeah, and I absorbed it. (�Cats in the Cradle�) GRISSOM: You've, uh, already shared this information with Sara? GREG: Yeah, an hour ago. And she was way more fascinated than you are. GRISSOM: Well, I'm somewhat fascinated by the fact that I'm your boss, but you talked to her first. GREG: Well, you were at dinner. GRISSOM: I've been in the lab all day, Greg. (�Anatomy of a Lye�) DAVID: She drowned. NICK: This is the girl I found in the desert. DAVID: I am aware of that. She drowned. (Anatomy of a Lye�) GRISSOM: Nice tan. CATHERINE: Nice suit. GRISSOM: Yeah, well, I knew you were coming back today, so I dressed up. (�Cross-Jurisdictions�) GRISSOM: Enema. The secret life of women. CATHERINE: Don't generalize. It's not very scientific of you. (�The Hunger Artist�) SARA: I got crabs. GRISSOM: Excuse me? SARA: I got crabs. Take a look. (�The Hunger Artist�) |