“We wasted ten years and you're worried about a few thousand miles? Hell, we've got airplanes, we've got email, they've invented fucking cell phones. Jesus, if it comes down to it, I'll even write you a fucking letter.”

“Everybody's gotta die sometime. But until then we've still got fifty-some odd years to go, and a lot to think about while we're living those fifty years, and I'll just come right out and say it: that's even more tiring than living five thousand years thinking about nothing. Don't you think?”

“Jesus, if it comes down to it, I'll even write you a f*cking letter!""I'll write you on both sides of the f*cking paper, Caro.”

“Do you have any idea who you've been dealing with?""This is big-time! Interstate! Federal! You're not in a precinct, are you?""This goes way beyond you! This goes deep!""We've been on to this guy for a long time, Shaka.""The Virginia Mafia! Nobody fucks with them!""We've got him in a room down the hall--this guy gave up his own sister! You're lucky you got out alive!”

“Come on then," Deeba said. "We haven't got time to waste. You're not the ones who are going to get forgot in a few days' time if you don't phone home.”

“We've got a war going on, the demons are invading, you got implanted by the Prince of Darkness and you're worried I'll make you stick your finger up your bum and bark like a dog? This is serious!' - Mr. Fogarty”