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Supernatural

Bobby: You are nine kinds of crazy, boy.
Dean: It's been said.

What if we win? I'm serious. I mean, screw the angels and the demons and their crap Apocalypse. They want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one's ours, and I say they get the hell off of it. We take 'em all on. We kill the Devil. Hell, we even kill Michael if we have to, but we do it our own damn selves.

Dean

Sarah/Lucifer: I'm not your wife, Nick. I'm an angel.
Nick: An angel?
Sarah/Lucifer: My name is Lucifer.
Nick: Sure. Naturally. Umm... could you do me a favor there, Satan, and remind me to quit drinking before I go to bed?

Castiel: You two need to be more careful.
Dean: Yeah, I'm starting to get that. Your frat brothers are bigger dicks than I thought.

Dean: You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin.
Zachariah: Unfortunately, yes.
Dean: Well, there's got to be another way.
Zachariah: There is no other way. There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the Serpent. It is written.
Dean: Yeah, maybe. But, on the other hand... eat me. The answer's no.

Zachariah: You're Michael's vessel. Or rather, his receptacle.
Dean: I'm a vessel?
Zachariah: You're the vessel. Michael's vessel.
Dean: How? Why, why me?
Zachariah: Because you're chosen! It's a great honor, Dean.
Dean: Oh, yeah. Life as an angel condom. That's real fun. I think I'll pass, thanks.

Zachariah: I see you told the demons where the sword is.
Dean: (deadpan) Oh, thank God. The angels are here.

Sam: I brought this on.
Bobby: You're damn right you didn't listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant.
Sam: I'm sorry.
Bobby: Oh, yeah? You're sorry you started Armageddon? This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle we pull this off... I want you to lose my number.

Sam: Becky, does he know where it is?
Becky: In a castle on a hill made of forty-two dogs.
Dean: Forty-two dogs?
Sam: Are you sure you got that right.
Becky: It doesn't make sense, but that's what he said. I memorized every word... for you.
Sam: Umm... Becky, can you... quit touching me?
Becky: No.

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