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Dexter

Debra Morgan: Why is it we never talk brother-sister stuff?
Dexter Morgan: Our dad was a cop, you're a cop, I work for the cops... for us, this is brother-sister stuff.

Dexter Morgan: So what's up, hot shot?
Debra Morgan: Alright, get this. Lieutenant's looking for that refrigerated truck in every swamp, glade and chop shop from here to the Keys. The way I see it, that whack-job truck driver threw a severed head at your car. It's not as if he's shy.
Dexter Morgan: You think he's hiding the truck in plain sight, wanting it to be found?

I dream. I dream I'm floating on the surface of my own life. Watching it unfold. Observing it. I'm the outsider looking in.

I can kill a man, dismember his body, and be home in time for Letterman. But knowing what to say when my girlfriend's feeling insecure... I'm totally lost.

My sister puts up a front so the world won't see how vulnerable she is. Me, I put up a front so the world won't see how vulnerable I'm not. I don't care who these fingertips belong to, only what my new friend out there is trying to say.

My father taught me one thing above all others; to be sure. And I am. Matt Chambers, Miami is your last stop. If God is in the details and if I believed in God, he's in this room with me. I just wish he had brought an extension cord.

Tonight's the night. And it's going to happen again, and again. It has to happen. Nice night.

I chose Rita because she is, in her own way, as damaged as me.

I always prided myself on being an outsider... but now... I feel the need to connect with someone.

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