Sydney: How do you think he will hold up? Miss Parker: Before or after he wets his pants? Sydney: Good morning, Miss Parker. Broots. Broots: Sydney. Miss Parker: You're looking... refreshed. Sydney: New underpants will do that to you. [Miss Parker and Broots look at each other silently] Miss Parker: Sydney, you made a funny. Sydney: Stole it, I'm afraid. Last night, I went on a date. Broots: You had a date! Miss Parker: [to Broots] That's when two people actually meet instead of typing to each other on a computer keyboard. [to Sydney] Miss Parker: So, if it was a date, how can you be sure that those are *your* underpants? Greek Lady Patient: Are you a doctor? Jarod: I am today. Broots: Have you ever gone to church? Miss Parker: With all I've seen and done, a church is the last place I should be. Broots: Or the first. Mr. Lyle: When in doubt, lie. Jarod: Love transcends death. The people we love touch our lives, even after they're gone. Broots: I, uh, know it's none of my business, Syd, but sometimes Memory Lane can be a dead-end street. Jarod: How's life treating you? Miss Parker: Like he caught me in bed with his wife. Broots: I found something bizarre. Miss Parker: What, like hair on your head? Broots: No, that would be fantasy. This is real. Mr. Lyle: We both know that this notion of human equality perpetuates mediocrity. But we're not mediocre, are we, Miss Parker? We're independent - and independence - that's a privilege of the strong. Tell me, Miss Parker, how strong are you? Miss Parker: Since when do you hate to fly? Broots: I don't hate to fly. I hate to barf. Catherine Parker: Trust can kill you or set you free. Jarod: What do you want? Mr. Lyle: Isn't it obvious? I want everything. Jarod: I want to know who I am. And I'd rather die trying to find out than live not knowing.
: Actually Ms. Parker, I don't think we're in Kansas any more. Sandi: Are you telling me you've never been to a strip club before? You know, strange men cramming sweaty wads of cash into strange women's panties? Jarod: I think I would remember THAT. Jarod: Topless? Sandi: What? You've never been in a strip joint before? Naked women swinging around metal poles, strange men cramming sweaty wads of money into strange women's panties? Jarod: I would remember something like that... Broots: You know the rumor that JFK was kept alive as a vegetable somewhere? Buzzie claims it was right here in SL-18. Miss Parker: Yeah, next to the alien corpses Nixon showed Jackie Gleason. Broots: That was here too? Miss Parker: Maybe I should send you to every Y.M.C.A. in the country first. Or lock you in the Bates Motel with Sydney and Broots. Jarod: This is about that strip search in Las Vegas, isn't it? Jarod: [after asking the foreman about the sulfuric chloride] One more question. Foreman: Shoot. Jarod: Valentine's Day. Specifically cupid. Foreman: Yeah. Jarod: A corpulent infant, who happens to be an archer, goes around shooting arrows into people and suddenly they're in love? Foreman: That's about it. Jarod: And to show that they love, people buy each other chocolate and other sweets? Do they want to be fat, like the infant? Miss Parker: You mean a shrink, don't you? Thanks Syd, but I'll leave the mental masturbation to someone else. Claire: Jarod, if you ever wanta get together, pick each other's brains, little one-on-one... Jarod: Careful Claire, don't cross a line you can't come back from. Miss Parker: [Referring to her nicotine patch] The only way this thing is gonna help me is if I roll it and smoke it. Sydney: The Centre wants him alive. Miss Parker: Preferably. Claire: The superior mind always has a way out: a tiny little door marked 'exit.' Jarod: Well maybe it's time to run for it. Giuseppe: So full of anger! Miss Parker: That's my religion. Miss Parker: God forgives. I don't. Jarod: Karma. Ain't it a bitch? Jarod: Here you go. Breakfast. Young Jarod: That isn't wheat grass and tomato juice. Dr. Jason Earl: Jarod, why don't you tell the group what brought you here? Jarod: A large cop with bad breath. Sydney: You believe someone stole your mother's body? Miss Parker: Except for this Scotch-induced earthquake rattling between my ears, I'm not sure exactly what to believe anymore. Broots: Let's face it, Sydney. Catherine Parker's body being gone fits in with all the other bizarre happenings around here. The reappearance of Edna Raines, who, after 30 years, everyone thought was dead... Miss Parker: And now who really is dead, thanks to the Bald Butcher she called hubby. Miss Parker: I never thought I'd hear you say 'murder is business as usual,' Syd. Jarod: Trust your inner sense, Miss Parker. I do. Sydney: How come you know so much about Greek lore? Miss Parker: I did a lot of frat boys in college. Miss Parker: Make up your mind, Sydney. Be a scientist or a mommy. You can't be both. [Miss Parker's phone rings at 3:44 a.m., waking her up] Miss Parker: What? Jarod: Oh, I intentially wake you in your deepest sleep phase and all I get is a lifeless 'what'? Tom Matthews: You up for a dogfight? Jarod: Me? I was born for this moment. Jarod: You can only be a jinx if you believe in luck. [Sydney is on the phone with Jarod and Broots is trying to trace the call] Broots: Keep talking. We've almost got him. [Jarod flips a switch on a box near his phone, causing a high-pitched sound to terminate any sort of trace to his phone] Jarod: Tell Broots I discovered RadioShack. Jarod: Get back to me, Sydney. I'm running late. Sydney: For what? Jarod: Justice. Annie: So, you're a doctor *and* a lawyer? Jarod: And I'm working on Indian chief. Isaac Dexter: Actually, I offer a very valuable service. You'd be surprised how many cab drivers won't pick up a man in a dress. Jarod: Really? Why? Isaac Dexter: The truth is, I'd like to offer my services as your personal chauffeur. Jarod: No kidding! That's great! Now, you're sure you have a driver's license? Isaac Dexter: Don't worry, boss. You're in good hands. And I promise to be the perfect lady. Man, off camera: Hey, baby! Isaac Dexter: Up yours, pal!