“Well, it looks like you're on a mission to kill someone," Grace said. "And since you won't look good in an orange jumpsuit, I thought we could discuss.""I'd totally rock an orange jumpsuit.""No one rocks orange. Talk to me.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you look like an orange in that jumpsuit? Auntie Lenore? More like Auntie Clementine.”

“Otrera stayed dead the second time," Kinzie said, batting her eyes. "We have to thank you for that. If you ever need a new girlfriend...well, I think you'd look great in an iron collar and an orange jumpsuit."Percy couldn't tell if she was kidding or not. He politely thanked her and changed seats.”

“So, we skipped Annabel, and discussed condoms. I said I liked the orange ones, and we ended our talk in laughter.”

“I had to say it gave me a warm feeling to picture Meredith Winslow spending twenty years or so in an ill fitting orange jumpsuit, cozying up to a great big girl named Beulah”

“You're not me,' Millhouse gritted.'True. I'm sitting in a chair wearing Armani. You're on the floor, wearing an ugly orange jumpsuit. You're facing a long stay at Hotel Don't-Bend-Over and I'll go home to a soft, warm bed. I'm glad I'm not you for those reasons alone. But the biggest difference between us is my people believe in me and yours don't.”