Seeley Booth quotes from Bones

Brennan

It's a good thing I like being alone.

Booth

You know what, Bones? You're not alone. Okay? Come here.

Brennan

Booth...

Booth

Hey, you're my partner. It's a guy-hug. Take it. [They hug in a very non-guy-hug way.]

Booth

Hey, Bones, come on. We've got a body. Went up like a Roman candle... Hey, Zack! How's it going?

Zack

So far they don't like me.

Booth

Shocker.

Booth

Okay, who else knows about this?

Hodgins

Us and you. That's it.

Booth

Let's keep it that way.

Hodgins

I've seen this movie. I get killed on the way home.

Booth

Then don't go home.

Hodgins

[laughs, then stops abruptly] You serious?

Brennan

I wish you wouldn't keep letting me hug you when I get scared.

Booth

Hey, I get scared and I'll hug you. We'll call it even.

Brennan

I just... I'm just one of those people who doesn't get to be in a family. That's--

Booth

[places his finger underneath her chin, lifting her head up] Listen, Bones, hey. There's more than one kind of family.

You're what's known as a real pain in the ass, Agent Booth.

Booth

Yes sir.

I just had my testicles handed to me by the Attorney General of the United States of America.

[...] You're suspended without pay. Gun, ID, security card, please.

Booth

Sir, I'm entitled to the reading of the charges against me.

The charges against you are that I was pissed upon from a very great height!

Angela

How do you deal with the fear?

Brennan

I have this. [takes out huge gun from her purse]

Angela

Oh, my God! That thing is huge. Whoa, wow, that's like movie huge.

Booth

Where the hell did you get that?

Brennan

The mall.

Booth

[incredulously] The mall?

Brennan

Yeah. It's pretty big, right? Bigger than the one you have. [Angela chuckles]

Booth

Excuse me. It's not the size that matters. It's how you use it.

Brennan

Well, I think size is pretty important.

Booth

The point is that you shouldn't have a gun in the first place.

Angela

If you do have one, bigger is always better.

Booth

You're not helping.

Angela

Right. Yeah, this does seem like a private conversation.

Booth

You know, people see you with that, the next thing you know everyone in this place is gonna start packing.

Brennan

This is America. Get used to it.

Booth

What's that smell?

Brennan

It's mold. It grows in the fat creases of morbidly obese people.

What is this about? Did you bring me here to make fun of me?

Brennan

I merely stated a fact, Mrs. Epps. You need to lose weight. Obesity also causes diabetes, heart damage, liver failure. Not to mention the wear it puts on your joints.

I have a glandular condition. A little compassion and understanding, that's what I really need.

Zack

My doctor said most of my injuries didn't come from the explosion but from being slammed into the floor. [to Booth.] Apparently you're extremely strong.

Brennan

[to Booth.] Did you have to be so rough on him?

Booth

(plaintively) It was a bomb. I was being, you know, heroic.

Booth

[speaking into his phone] Did you say the Everglades? Look, I can't hear anything because of this INSANE MUSIC!

YOU SHOT MY CLOWN!

Booth

[speaking into his phone] Great. Flight number?

[off screen] Hey! Hey! He shot my clown!

Booth

Okay thanks. [turns to Brennan] Okay, we're all set.

Brennan

[still shocked by what just happened] That... was not good.

Booth

Hey, Doc, why is it that every time I answer the phone, you walk away?

Why do you answer the phone, knowing it'll make me walk away?

According to the FBI report, there was no way you could save Epps' life. Your partner's report says the same thing. An FBI sniper on the upside roof saw everything through his scope. According to all witnesses you have nothing to feel guilty about.

Booth

(depressed) Yeah, so?

So why in a fit of pique did you endanger innocent people in a public thoroughfare by discharging your firearm?

Booth

I'm a good shot. I didn't put anybody in danger.

How many people have you killed?

Booth

I lost count.

Oh, you could remember 180 bricks but not how many lives you've taken?

Booth

Epps makes fifty.

Fifty what?

Booth

(weighed down) Fifty kills.

But Agent Booth, you didn't kill Epps! You tried to save him, remember? Perhaps I better put it as a question: did Howard Epps slip from your grasp or did you release him? (Booth ponders the moment Epps fell in a flashback, he can't answer) Oh, come now man, this is a simple enough question. Was he indeed your fiftieth kill or did you just happen to be there when he died?

Booth

(very vulnerable) I - I don't know.

A man like you? In control of every situation and you don't know?

Booth

I don't know...I had him and then I lost him and something happened in between. (almost in a whisper) I don't know.

I believe you. Because for a man like you to admit you don't know, to relinquish control, that could indeed argue a disruption in yourself - that was large enough to motivate you to shoot a clown.

You tend to do things well, don't you? Make coffee, build BBQ machines.

Booth

It's not really a machine.

Solve crimes, raise a son, love women, leave women. Whatever you aim at you hit.

Booth

Is that bad?

By no means, of course not. Except ...

Booth

Oh, okay, here we go. Let me have it, Doc.

Except it is indicative of a need to control your environment.

No, of course not, no. Except ...

Booth

Except?

Except when you shoot a clown.

Booth

You know, you make it sound like he was walking around making balloon animals.

For the most part your rebellions are small.

Booth

Rebellions?

The colorful socks, the funky belt buckle. They're a mechanism, quiet rebellions. A way of asserting your personal control over a homogenizing organization like the FBI. But shooting a clown is not a quiet rebellion. Shooting a clown is quite literally deafening.

Wyatt

Did we have a schedule?

Wyatt

Have you had an insight then as to why you shot at that clown?

Booth

(Booth's cell rings) Yeah. You know what? I've had some insight. It's right here. (pointing at the display of his phone) That's my Bones calling, my partner.

Booth

Dr. Wyatt.

Booth

Great. You the shrink?

Wyatt

Shrink, yes, meaning psychiatrist.

Booth

That's great, Doc. How's about you just sign my piece of paper here and I'll get back to work, right?

Wyatt

Certainly. (Booth hands him a pen) No, no, I have a pen. Do you mind if I ask what exactly it was that you did?

Booth

Yeah, I shot a truck.

Wyatt

Ah, full of terrorists no doubt or plutonium or fleeing felons, was it?

Booth

Nah, it was an ice cream truck.

Wyatt

You have a good reason for firing on it?

Booth

Yeah, the music, it was bothering me.

Wyatt

Ah.

Booth

Yeah, there was a speaker in the clown's mouth? Yeah, I just pulled out my gun, you know, bum-bum-bum. It was gone.

Wyatt

(folding the paper without signing it) So, the FBI sent you to me because you shot a clown?

Booth

Not a real clown.

Wyatt

(handing Booth the paper back) I suggest you cogitate on the underlying reasons why you shot that clown while I make us some tea. (goes into the house)

Booth

Cogitate? Tea