“Santangelo is irritated. "We're not suppose to be collaborating. It's supposed to be a war and you're supposed to stick to the boundaries.""We've seen you in your jocks," she reminds him. "Taylor and Griggs have pashed. You've broken into your father's police station for us. Don't you think the war has lost a bit of its tension?”

“Quiet down! You're supposed to be dead!" snapped a passing Union soldier."This is a private conversation," Margaret snapped back."This is a battle," he hissed."No, honey, this is called pretending. I hate to break it to you, but we're not really in the Civil War. If you'd like to feel a bit more authentic, I'd be happy to stick this bayonet up your ass.”

“You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid-we know we're called Gred and Forge.”

“You're not supposed to laugh at your own father. Ever.”

“Life is supposed to be fun. It's not a job or occupation. We're here only once and we should have a bit of a laugh.”

“The guy you're really supposed to be with can be standing right in front of you and you don't even notice because you're too distracted by the one you think you're supposed to be with.”