Dickinson: How they doing?
Artie: Oh, you know, they're... mostly, they're a pain in my ass.
Dickinson: So am I.

Myka: Artie, I need you to find my cell phone.
Artie: I'm not your personal cell phone locator, okay?

Artie: My name... doesn't matter. But I think you know who I represent.
Dickinson: Flash Gordon?

Myka: You know how when you sing in the shower, and it bounces off the tiles, and you sound spectacular.
Artie: No, I never sound spectacular.

Leena: How are you sleeping?
Artie: I'm not.
Leena: I could tell. Your aura looks like hell.
Artie: Then stop looking at it.

Artie: Hey! Please take this seriously. I had a run-in with a Mayan calendar a few years ago, and that question saved my life. And the two agents with me were not quite so lucky.
Myka: What happened to them?
Artie: Their clocks... stopped.
Pete: So, what? They died?
Artie: Well, they'll wish they had in a 100 years or so.

You, uh, wished for a transfer, didn't you? Oh, see, impossible wishes, wishes that can never be granted, they produce a ferret. Don't ask me why. My first year here, the whole place was crawling with ferrets.

Artie: And that is exactly what we do here. We take the unexplained.. and we just safely tuck it away in this super-sized Pandora's Box.
Pete: Metaphorically speaking.
Artie: Well, actually, Pandora's box is over in Aisle 989-B. Empty, of course.

Pete: So, okay, who are these guys?
Artie: Former colleagues.
Pete: And.. and where are they now?
Artie: Well, um, this one and this one are dead. This one, a mental institution in Germany. And this last one disappeared. One day I'll find him.

Artie: Come on. Come on inside. I'll show you around.
Myka: Around what? What am I doing here?
Artie: I'll explain everything inside. Come on. I made cookies.
Pete: Ooh.

Welcome to Warehouse 13.

I'd like to think of it as America's attic.