“How do you feel? (Maggie)Like I got hit by a bus that decided to back up a few times and make sure it finished the job. I think it must have ground its tires on my ribs during the last run. You know, just in case I might actually want to breathe again in my lifetime. (Wren)”

“What would you like? (Maggie)I don’t care. I’ll eat anything not Tylenol or chocolate. (Wren)”

“How many more are there like you? (Maggie)Enough to make the cast of a Cecil B. DeMille film look like a two-man opera. (Wren)”

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? (Shahara)Other than the fact that I feel like my rib just punctured a lung, sure, I’m all right. (Syn)”

“Yeah, I wish I could have stayed awake long enough to see your face when I changed over. (Wren)No, you don’t. I assure you, it wasn’t pretty. (Maggie)There’s never anything about you that isn’t pretty, Maggie. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. (Wren)”

“This has been one seriously fucked-up day, huh? (Wren)You might say that. This morning it was 2005 in New Orleans, I was staring at you wondering what it would be like to have the ability to change into a tiger. Now it’s the day before I enter the world in 1981 and I can turn into a tiger. Yeah, just your average day...if you’re in a Ted Raimi production. (Maggie)”

“I’ve never met anyone who had a monkey for a friend before. (Maggie)I don’t know. I think those two guys you were with would qualify as primates, but then, that’s an insult to the primate and I don’t want Marvin to get pissed at me. He has higher sensibilities, you know? (Wren)”