[Roslin visits Baltar in the brig after he is accused of treason.]
I want to believe you. I want to believe that I haven't made such a profound error in judgment in trusting you, in asking your advice. But here's where we are, Doctor. If anyone can be a Cylon, and it's hard to tell us apart then we only have one thing left to trust. Our instincts, our feelings. And the moment they told me it was your face in the photo I knew I believed it. I believe you were involved in the attack... somehow. I feel it.
You'll forgive me, Madam President, if I don't wish to be executed based solely on your gut feeling.
May the gods have mercy on your soul.
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