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Brennan: Can I start buying you things now?
Booth: No, you can't. But, hey, I'll tell you what, you can buy Christine stuff.
Brennan: I know you'd like a new grill.
Booth: Christine would love a new grill.

Ms. Julian: You're gonna have to settle with running around, shooting people until you grow up.
Booth: Well, you wouldn't love me any other way, right?

It's only a flesh wound, Lance.


[to Starling] Just aiming my big shrinky brain at her. Thought you'd like to see what I was packing.


Sweets: The dead husband showed up. Alive.
Booth: Bones made a mistake?
Sweets: I know, it's even starting to sound weird to me.

A desk job? It would be like caging an animal. You're meant to run free, Booth.


[to Booth] Sorry, cherie, but there is no one burlier or cuter than you.

Ms. Julian

Starling: Why'd she call you doctor?
Sweets: Because I'm a doctor. I'm a psychologist, a profiler.
Starling: You've gotta be kidding me. I'm working with a shrink.
Sweets: I'm more than just a shrink. The bureau gave me a gun. I should take the lead on questioning people. It's kind of my thing.
Starling: Just don't shoot me.

Angela: I'm no coroner, but I'm saying the cause of death was humungous explosion.
Cam: The coroner concurs.

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