“A blaster against a knife isn’t fair. (a Partini)No shit…and so goes my incentive to fight fairly. You want fair, play with kids. You wanna come at me, make out a will. (Syn)”

“What did I do to make Mommy leave?”“You didn’t do anything. This isn’t your fault.”“Then why?” she’d wailed.“I don’t know,” her daddy had said, and he looked so sad.“It isn’t fair!”“No, it isn’t, baby. Not by a mile. The world’s only as fair as you can make it. Takes a lot of fight. A lot of fight. But if you stay in here, in your own little cave, that’s one less fighter on the side of fair.”

“You want me to helpyou because fair is fair?Life isn't fair Dean. Tryhelp me so I don't ripyour spin out and beatyou with it. I might respondto that. Maybe.”

“That was the funniest thing I'd heard in days.You're kidding, right? PLEASE tell me you have a stronger motive for me than 'fair is fair.' Life isn't FAIR, Dean....Nothing is fair, EVER. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I need to help you because FAIR IS FAIR? Try, 'I need you to help me so I won't rip out your spine and beat you with it.' I MIGHT respond to that. MAYBE.”

“...you don’t fight fair against the devil, now do you?”

“Tell me, what smells like shit and screams like a girl? (Syn)(He shot the Partini in the knee.)That’s right. You. (Syn)”