Gil Grissom: There is always a clue.
Gil Grissom: I just got a page from James Watson.
Nick Stokes: And I got one from Francis Crick. What's going on, Greg?
Greg Sanders: Well, as you both know, Watson and Crick are the granddaddies of DNA. Without their discoveries, I'd have nothing to do all day.
Nick Stokes: What have you been doing all day?
Gil Grissom: Where's your enthusiasm?
Greg Sanders: Whenever I find a match in here, my world gets a little smaller. Out there I felt large.
Gil Grissom: Out there means a pay cut.
Greg Sanders: I'm not about the money.
Gil Grissom: I can't tell whether he's brilliant or nuts.
Captain Jim Brass: Sound familiar?
Gil Grissom: It was in the days of public hangings that people first noticed that men would get erections and sometimes even ejaculate. They called it "The Killer Orgasm."
[after telling Grissom something that Grissom already knows]
Greg Sanders: I guess I should stop trying to impress you.
Gil Grissom: That would impress me.
[Grissom admits to a mistake]
Gil Grissom: What?
Nick Stokes: Well, it's just that most people don't admit to being wrong.
Gil Grissom: I'm wrong all the time. It's how I get to "right".
Gil Grissom: He's wearing a wig... and a fat suit. Is it Samhain?
Catherine Willows: In this town, it's always Samhain.
Catherine Willows: Never doubt. Never look back. That's how I live my life.
Gil Grissom: I admire that.
Dr. Al Robbins: I'll know mais later.
Gil Grissom: You always tell me that.
Dr. Al Robbins: Yes, I do.
Gil Grissom: Are we paying you por the word?
Gil Grissom: Ok, we're going off the board tonight.
Sara Sidle: Off the board?
Catherine Willows: Fish. The ones that got away.
Sara Sidle: Oh. I missed that one.
[Sara storms in, obviously angry]
Sara Sidle: You weren't in your office.
Gil Grissom: And good morning to you too, Miss Sidle.
Gil Grissom: Sometimes I can be a little thoughtless.
Catherine Willows: I wouldn't say that. Not just any guy would walk a girl to the morgue.
Catherine Willows: We're mid-case. Why do we have to do this now?
Gil Grissom: Well, unless I get these evaluations in, I'll be written up.
Catherine Willows: My goals... all right, for starters, I'd like two consecutive nights off. I would like to cut my triples down to 10 instead of the usual 20, and I would amor to find a reliable babysitter so I could have myself some kind of a personal life.
Gil Grissom: You don't have a personal life?
Catherine Willows: Write this down: I haven't had sex in six - no, seven months.
Gil Grissom: How can I help?
[Her eyes widen]
Gil Grissom: You. Advance, I mean.
Gil Grissom: A girl... in a culvert pipe... at a highway construction site... in the middle of an alfalfa field...
[turns to Brass]
Gil Grissom: You got anything to add?
Captain Jim Brass: Nothing as poetic.
Gil Grissom: What you do on your time is your business. What you do on my time is my business.
Greg Sanders: All work and no play makes Greg a dull boy.
Gil Grissom: All play and no work makes Greg an UNEMPLOYED boy.
Gil Grissom: Amazing how the sight of blood can clear a room.
Nick Stokes: There's a sucker born every minute.
Gil Grissom: Yeah, and they all come to Vegas.
[to Grissom upon seeing a bug]
Catherine Willows: Hey, look at that. Your six-legged soul mate.
[Looking for clues in a messy trailer]
Nick Stokes: People are pigs.
Gil Grissom: Don't insult the pigs, Nick. They're actually very clean.
[after Gil Grissom lights up a salmoura, pickle in the lab]
Gil Grissom: You know this is how I cooked my hot cachorros in college.
Sara Sidle: Do you want to have jantar with me?
Gil Grissom: No.
Sara Sidle: Come on, let's go to dinner... see what happens.
Gil Grissom: I... don't know what to do about this.
Sara Sidle: I do. And when you finally figure it out, you might be too late.
Gil Grissom: No victim can ever say we didn't try.
[the investigators discover a horse was being used to smuggle diamonds]
Gil Grissom: The horse is a mule.
[after witnessing a child ignoring her mother]
Gil Grissom: [to Catherine] My mother may have been deaf but she was still the boss.
Gil Grissom: Repeat after me. Silk, silk, silk.
Nick Stokes: Silk, silk, silk.
Gil Grissom: What do cows drink?
Nick Stokes: Milk.
Gil Grissom: Cows drink water. They produce milk.
[a rato has just climbed out of a murder victim's mouth]
Captain Jim Brass: Whoa.
Gil Grissom: I think she just ratted herself out.
[Later, before the victim's autopsy:]
Dr. Al Robbins: Heard about the rat. Hope it didn't have any children.
Gil Grissom: The rich are just as depraved as the poor.
Gil Grissom: Most mammals only copulate seasonally.
Catherine Willows: How boring.
Captain Jim Brass: What are you doing after work?
Gil Grissom: mais work.
Warrick Brown: Was that a confession?
Gil Grissom: I think a plea of insanity.
Captain Jim Brass: Hey, look what I found: a faca with blood on it.
Gil Grissom: Hey, look what I found: dead guy.
Scott Shelton: [after Sara discovers blood that has been wiped clean off the wall] I have no idea how it got there.
Sara Sidle: Oh... How it got there was when you shot your wife in the head, wrapped her in a blanket and left her on the side of a mountain. *Dead*!
[points her finger in his face]
Scott Shelton: Get that finger out of my face!
[they fight]
Captain Jim Brass: [shouts] Stop! That's enough!
[to Grissom]
Captain Jim Brass: Get her under control!
Gil Grissom: [shouts] Get him out of here, Jim!
Scott Shelton: Told you she was a handful.
Sara Sidle: Oh, you don't know a handful!
Gil Grissom: Hey, Sara, what's the matter with you?
Sara Sidle: I am a woman, and I have a gun and look how he treated me! I can only imagine how he treated his wife!
Captain Jim Brass: Our friend Tony just checked into the hotel. Didn't even unpack his bags.
Grissom: He made enemies fast.
Dr. Al Robbins: He's been pretty worked over. How many teeth did you find at the crime scene?
Grissom: Two.
Dr. Al Robbins: He's missing six.
Grissom: "The evil men do always lives after them. The good is often interred with their bones."
Warrick Brown: Shakespeare?
Grissom: [nods] Julius Caesar.
Sara Sidle: Clothing, $85. Earrings, $30. Latte, $4. Getting away with murder...
Gil Grissom: Priceless.
[about an elastic plastic]
Gil Grissom: What's it found in?
Hodges: Greg-Sanders-wear.
Gil Grissom: Sara, do you have any duct tape in your kit?
Sara Sidle: Yeah. It's what I use to hold it together.
[Grissom walks por the lab where Greg is playing music]
Gil Grissom: Hey, Sanders, no punk rock.
Greg Sanders: What about Black Flag?
Gil Grissom: Are you nuts?
Gil Grissom: My bugs are my babies, my children.
Greg Sanders: I'm like a sponge: I just absorb information.
Gil Grissom: I thought that was MY line.
Greg Sanders: Yeah, and I absorbed it.
Gil Grissom: So, let's see. You surf, you scuba dive. You're into latex, you like fashion modelos and Marilyn Manson. And you also have a coin collection?
Greg Sanders: Weird, ha?
Gil Grissom: Well, I race cockroaches!
Gil Grissom: Hi beetle!
Gil Grissom: Did you hear the one about the cop and the monkey who go into a bar?
Catherine Willows: I'm not in the mood.
Gil Grissom: Neither was the monkey.
Greg Sanders: [Spoken while Grissom is looking under a microscope] That's the hair from the spare bedroom.
Gil Grissom: There's an oily film on the surface of the hair.
Greg Sanders: Propylene glycol. Active ingredient in Rogaine, for male pattern baldness. Personally, I don't use the stuff, but my grandfather Papa Olaf - he was Bruce Willis at age sixteen. Lucky for me, baldness comes from the mother's side, so I'm safe...
Gil Grissom: [Interrupting] Greg, please, I'm very tired.
Greg Sanders: Well, maybe the guy we're looking for is going bald... or trying not to. According to Papa Olaf, a lot of guys who use Rogaine also use Propecia, kind of like a cocktail. I ran the hair through MassSpec. I got four peaks - ethyl alcohol, propylene glycol, minoxidil, and finasteride.
Gil Grissom: Finasteride, the chemical name for Propecia.
Greg Sanders: But wait, there's more, and it's a family secret. Sexual. Happens in less than two percent of users.
[Whispering]
Greg Sanders: Papa Olaf was one of those people that needed hydraulics.
Gil Grissom: Nick, give me that maçã, apple
Nick Stokes: [looks at the maçã, apple he's been eating] But I didn't get any lunch...
Gil Grissom: You're not supposed to be eating in here so give it.
[Grissom notices something in the desert and starts to walk away from a crime scene]
Captain Jim Brass: Where's he going?
Catherine Willows: Let's just hope he stops.
[Dr. Robbins has received a human head in the mail]
[Grissom walks into the room]
Gil Grissom: I heard you got some head.
Gil Grissom: I'm sorry, you look lost
Sheriff Rory Atwater: I've been calling your cell.
Gil Grissom: We get bad reception here in CSI. Listen, if this is about dinner, I'm free seguinte week. I'll be having the fish.
[liquid from the tronco, porta-malas of a car containing two corpses splashes up onto Greg's face and into his mouth]
Sara Sidle: Technically, that makes you a cannibal. Grissom would be proud.
Greg Sanders: Grissom would have tasted it on purpose.
Greg Sanders: I, am a genius.
Warrick Brown: Let me guess, you ran the DNA and got a hit?
Greg Sanders: No.
Gil Grissom: You ran the DNA and something distinctive came up?
Greg Sanders: No.
Warrick Brown: You rolled out of cama and managed to dress yourself?
Greg Sanders: No.
Catherine Willows: apaixonados and co-workers, that never works.
Catherine Willows: What kind of perverse game are you playing here, Gil?
Gil Grissom: I'm not a pervert.
Gil Grissom: Maestro, what's the deal with our floater?
[shouts over the music]
Gil Grissom: Professor! What's up with our floater?
Catherine Willows: How old were you when your father died?
Gil Grissom: Nine.
Catherine Willows: Little guy.
[identifying an insect at a crime scene]
Gil Grissom: Dermastidae masculatus.
Sara Sidle: That's Latin for "You're hiding a dead body."
Warrick Brown: Who brings a gun to a faca fight?
Gil Grissom: The winner?
Gil Grissom: [to Hodges] So you're saying our killer had metal balls?
Catherine Willows: You know how you're always pushing that holy trinity stuff?
Gil Grissom: Father, Son and Holy Ghost?
Catherine Willows: Victim, suspect, crime scene.
Gil Grissom: That one, huh?
Gil Grissom: I tend not to believe people; they lie. The evidence never lies.
Greg Sanders: [about Sara] You want a valium for her?
Sara Sidle: I heard that!
Gil Grissom: I just got a page from James Watson.
Nick Stokes: And I got one from Francis Crick. What's going on, Greg?
Greg Sanders: Well, as you both know, Watson and Crick are the granddaddies of DNA. Without their discoveries, I'd have nothing to do all day.
Nick Stokes: What have you been doing all day?
Gil Grissom: Where's your enthusiasm?
Greg Sanders: Whenever I find a match in here, my world gets a little smaller. Out there I felt large.
Gil Grissom: Out there means a pay cut.
Greg Sanders: I'm not about the money.
Gil Grissom: I can't tell whether he's brilliant or nuts.
Captain Jim Brass: Sound familiar?
Gil Grissom: It was in the days of public hangings that people first noticed that men would get erections and sometimes even ejaculate. They called it "The Killer Orgasm."
[after telling Grissom something that Grissom already knows]
Greg Sanders: I guess I should stop trying to impress you.
Gil Grissom: That would impress me.
[Grissom admits to a mistake]
Gil Grissom: What?
Nick Stokes: Well, it's just that most people don't admit to being wrong.
Gil Grissom: I'm wrong all the time. It's how I get to "right".
Gil Grissom: He's wearing a wig... and a fat suit. Is it Samhain?
Catherine Willows: In this town, it's always Samhain.
Catherine Willows: Never doubt. Never look back. That's how I live my life.
Gil Grissom: I admire that.
Dr. Al Robbins: I'll know mais later.
Gil Grissom: You always tell me that.
Dr. Al Robbins: Yes, I do.
Gil Grissom: Are we paying you por the word?
Gil Grissom: Ok, we're going off the board tonight.
Sara Sidle: Off the board?
Catherine Willows: Fish. The ones that got away.
Sara Sidle: Oh. I missed that one.
[Sara storms in, obviously angry]
Sara Sidle: You weren't in your office.
Gil Grissom: And good morning to you too, Miss Sidle.
Gil Grissom: Sometimes I can be a little thoughtless.
Catherine Willows: I wouldn't say that. Not just any guy would walk a girl to the morgue.
Catherine Willows: We're mid-case. Why do we have to do this now?
Gil Grissom: Well, unless I get these evaluations in, I'll be written up.
Catherine Willows: My goals... all right, for starters, I'd like two consecutive nights off. I would like to cut my triples down to 10 instead of the usual 20, and I would amor to find a reliable babysitter so I could have myself some kind of a personal life.
Gil Grissom: You don't have a personal life?
Catherine Willows: Write this down: I haven't had sex in six - no, seven months.
Gil Grissom: How can I help?
[Her eyes widen]
Gil Grissom: You. Advance, I mean.
Gil Grissom: A girl... in a culvert pipe... at a highway construction site... in the middle of an alfalfa field...
[turns to Brass]
Gil Grissom: You got anything to add?
Captain Jim Brass: Nothing as poetic.
Gil Grissom: What you do on your time is your business. What you do on my time is my business.
Greg Sanders: All work and no play makes Greg a dull boy.
Gil Grissom: All play and no work makes Greg an UNEMPLOYED boy.
Gil Grissom: Amazing how the sight of blood can clear a room.
Nick Stokes: There's a sucker born every minute.
Gil Grissom: Yeah, and they all come to Vegas.
[to Grissom upon seeing a bug]
Catherine Willows: Hey, look at that. Your six-legged soul mate.
[Looking for clues in a messy trailer]
Nick Stokes: People are pigs.
Gil Grissom: Don't insult the pigs, Nick. They're actually very clean.
[after Gil Grissom lights up a salmoura, pickle in the lab]
Gil Grissom: You know this is how I cooked my hot cachorros in college.
Sara Sidle: Do you want to have jantar with me?
Gil Grissom: No.
Sara Sidle: Come on, let's go to dinner... see what happens.
Gil Grissom: I... don't know what to do about this.
Sara Sidle: I do. And when you finally figure it out, you might be too late.
Gil Grissom: No victim can ever say we didn't try.
[the investigators discover a horse was being used to smuggle diamonds]
Gil Grissom: The horse is a mule.
[after witnessing a child ignoring her mother]
Gil Grissom: [to Catherine] My mother may have been deaf but she was still the boss.
Gil Grissom: Repeat after me. Silk, silk, silk.
Nick Stokes: Silk, silk, silk.
Gil Grissom: What do cows drink?
Nick Stokes: Milk.
Gil Grissom: Cows drink water. They produce milk.
[a rato has just climbed out of a murder victim's mouth]
Captain Jim Brass: Whoa.
Gil Grissom: I think she just ratted herself out.
[Later, before the victim's autopsy:]
Dr. Al Robbins: Heard about the rat. Hope it didn't have any children.
Gil Grissom: The rich are just as depraved as the poor.
Gil Grissom: Most mammals only copulate seasonally.
Catherine Willows: How boring.
Captain Jim Brass: What are you doing after work?
Gil Grissom: mais work.
Warrick Brown: Was that a confession?
Gil Grissom: I think a plea of insanity.
Captain Jim Brass: Hey, look what I found: a faca with blood on it.
Gil Grissom: Hey, look what I found: dead guy.
Scott Shelton: [after Sara discovers blood that has been wiped clean off the wall] I have no idea how it got there.
Sara Sidle: Oh... How it got there was when you shot your wife in the head, wrapped her in a blanket and left her on the side of a mountain. *Dead*!
[points her finger in his face]
Scott Shelton: Get that finger out of my face!
[they fight]
Captain Jim Brass: [shouts] Stop! That's enough!
[to Grissom]
Captain Jim Brass: Get her under control!
Gil Grissom: [shouts] Get him out of here, Jim!
Scott Shelton: Told you she was a handful.
Sara Sidle: Oh, you don't know a handful!
Gil Grissom: Hey, Sara, what's the matter with you?
Sara Sidle: I am a woman, and I have a gun and look how he treated me! I can only imagine how he treated his wife!
Captain Jim Brass: Our friend Tony just checked into the hotel. Didn't even unpack his bags.
Grissom: He made enemies fast.
Dr. Al Robbins: He's been pretty worked over. How many teeth did you find at the crime scene?
Grissom: Two.
Dr. Al Robbins: He's missing six.
Grissom: "The evil men do always lives after them. The good is often interred with their bones."
Warrick Brown: Shakespeare?
Grissom: [nods] Julius Caesar.
Sara Sidle: Clothing, $85. Earrings, $30. Latte, $4. Getting away with murder...
Gil Grissom: Priceless.
[about an elastic plastic]
Gil Grissom: What's it found in?
Hodges: Greg-Sanders-wear.
Gil Grissom: Sara, do you have any duct tape in your kit?
Sara Sidle: Yeah. It's what I use to hold it together.
[Grissom walks por the lab where Greg is playing music]
Gil Grissom: Hey, Sanders, no punk rock.
Greg Sanders: What about Black Flag?
Gil Grissom: Are you nuts?
Gil Grissom: My bugs are my babies, my children.
Greg Sanders: I'm like a sponge: I just absorb information.
Gil Grissom: I thought that was MY line.
Greg Sanders: Yeah, and I absorbed it.
Gil Grissom: So, let's see. You surf, you scuba dive. You're into latex, you like fashion modelos and Marilyn Manson. And you also have a coin collection?
Greg Sanders: Weird, ha?
Gil Grissom: Well, I race cockroaches!
Gil Grissom: Hi beetle!
Gil Grissom: Did you hear the one about the cop and the monkey who go into a bar?
Catherine Willows: I'm not in the mood.
Gil Grissom: Neither was the monkey.
Greg Sanders: [Spoken while Grissom is looking under a microscope] That's the hair from the spare bedroom.
Gil Grissom: There's an oily film on the surface of the hair.
Greg Sanders: Propylene glycol. Active ingredient in Rogaine, for male pattern baldness. Personally, I don't use the stuff, but my grandfather Papa Olaf - he was Bruce Willis at age sixteen. Lucky for me, baldness comes from the mother's side, so I'm safe...
Gil Grissom: [Interrupting] Greg, please, I'm very tired.
Greg Sanders: Well, maybe the guy we're looking for is going bald... or trying not to. According to Papa Olaf, a lot of guys who use Rogaine also use Propecia, kind of like a cocktail. I ran the hair through MassSpec. I got four peaks - ethyl alcohol, propylene glycol, minoxidil, and finasteride.
Gil Grissom: Finasteride, the chemical name for Propecia.
Greg Sanders: But wait, there's more, and it's a family secret. Sexual. Happens in less than two percent of users.
[Whispering]
Greg Sanders: Papa Olaf was one of those people that needed hydraulics.
Gil Grissom: Nick, give me that maçã, apple
Nick Stokes: [looks at the maçã, apple he's been eating] But I didn't get any lunch...
Gil Grissom: You're not supposed to be eating in here so give it.
[Grissom notices something in the desert and starts to walk away from a crime scene]
Captain Jim Brass: Where's he going?
Catherine Willows: Let's just hope he stops.
[Dr. Robbins has received a human head in the mail]
[Grissom walks into the room]
Gil Grissom: I heard you got some head.
Gil Grissom: I'm sorry, you look lost
Sheriff Rory Atwater: I've been calling your cell.
Gil Grissom: We get bad reception here in CSI. Listen, if this is about dinner, I'm free seguinte week. I'll be having the fish.
[liquid from the tronco, porta-malas of a car containing two corpses splashes up onto Greg's face and into his mouth]
Sara Sidle: Technically, that makes you a cannibal. Grissom would be proud.
Greg Sanders: Grissom would have tasted it on purpose.
Greg Sanders: I, am a genius.
Warrick Brown: Let me guess, you ran the DNA and got a hit?
Greg Sanders: No.
Gil Grissom: You ran the DNA and something distinctive came up?
Greg Sanders: No.
Warrick Brown: You rolled out of cama and managed to dress yourself?
Greg Sanders: No.
Catherine Willows: apaixonados and co-workers, that never works.
Catherine Willows: What kind of perverse game are you playing here, Gil?
Gil Grissom: I'm not a pervert.
Gil Grissom: Maestro, what's the deal with our floater?
[shouts over the music]
Gil Grissom: Professor! What's up with our floater?
Catherine Willows: How old were you when your father died?
Gil Grissom: Nine.
Catherine Willows: Little guy.
[identifying an insect at a crime scene]
Gil Grissom: Dermastidae masculatus.
Sara Sidle: That's Latin for "You're hiding a dead body."
Warrick Brown: Who brings a gun to a faca fight?
Gil Grissom: The winner?
Gil Grissom: [to Hodges] So you're saying our killer had metal balls?
Catherine Willows: You know how you're always pushing that holy trinity stuff?
Gil Grissom: Father, Son and Holy Ghost?
Catherine Willows: Victim, suspect, crime scene.
Gil Grissom: That one, huh?
Gil Grissom: I tend not to believe people; they lie. The evidence never lies.
Greg Sanders: [about Sara] You want a valium for her?
Sara Sidle: I heard that!
