Voiceover: People say you only live once. But people are as wrong about that as they are about everything. On the darkest moment before dawn, a woman returns to her bed. What life is she living? Is the same life this woman was living half an hour ago? A day ago? A year ago? [cuts to Booth] Who is this man? Do they lead separate lives or is it a single life shared? ... A storm approaches. It is still over the horizon, but there is lightning in the air. Are either of them aware of the gathering turbulence? Can they feel the crackle of electricity in the wind or are they aware of only the power they generate between themselves?

Voiceover:You love someone, you open yourself up to suffering, and that's the sad truth. Maybe they'll break your heart, maybe you'll break their heart and never be able to look at yourself in the same way. Those are the risks. You see two people and you think they belong together, but nothing happens. The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden. Like wings, they have weight, we feel that weight on our backs, but they are a burden that lifts us. Burdens that allow us to fly.
Season 5

Walter: My work's done. [passes receipts to Booth]
Booth: What's this?
Walter: Itemized invoice from my expenses, mostly fuel for Ike flying me back and forth.
Brennan: But we haven't solve the murder!
Booth: Yes, two murders.
Brennan: Two murders! We haven't solve two murders!
Walter: You hired me to find the missing chart fragment. Eureka! Ta-daa! Bingo! Mission accomplished, [gesturing to the map] I found it.
Cam: Ah, technically, I found it..in her throat
Walter: Britney's body was submerged under 80 feet of water in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, I brought her here to you..I..pretty sure that's the impressive part. [leaves]
Brennan: That's true. If it weren't for Walter, her remains will never be discovered.
Booth: [gives a look at Brennan] Seriously?

Walter: Uh, pudge here is a..blind at one eye. [referring to person in the video]
Brennan: [surprised] How can you tell?
Walter: Oh, it's the way he holds that scrap, or whatever it is to the light.
Booth: 'Whatever it is' is a map...
Brennan: [correcting Booth] It's a chart fragment, Mr Sherman.
Walter: Oh, uh, please...call me Walter. [smiles at Brennan, Brennan smiles back]
Booth: Seriously? Focus, can we? Thank you. Really? [gesturing and giving a look at Walter]
Walter: [looks at Booth and looks back at Brennan] Are you two sleeping together?
Brennan: [chuckles] No! [looks at Booth]
Booth: No.
Walter: [to Brennan] Would you sleep with me? [Brennan looks at Walter shocked and amused]
Booth: [to Walter] You know what, you find the map, maybe you get a shot.[Brennan smacks Booth's arm] What? [mutters 'sorry' to Brennan]

Wendell: If you don't mind me asking, Dr. B, why do you keep staring at the X-ray?
Brennan: Because I'm suffering the nagging certainty that my eyes are seeing something which my brain refuses to process.

Wendell: Watch this. I'm about to Brennanize you.
Hodgins: Brennanize?
Wendell: Transverse fracture to the metacarpal and the right thumb, chondromalacia patellae of the left knee, a notch in the notch of the left ulna --
Hodgins: A notch in the notch?
Wendell: That's correct. With exostosis of the medial surface.
Hodgins: So what is that? Some kind of repetitive stress stuff?
Wendell: Yep, like this. [moves right arm upward repetitively]
Hodgins: Wow.
Wendell: Yeah, I'm thinking some kind of ritualized offering to like the sun, you know?
Hodgins: Yeah, yeah. Like a figure kind of on a high throne, right? Like a Satanic or an Illuminati slave!
Angela: Boys. You're bowling.
Hodgins: What? Okay! You're ready! The hot sauce worked!
Angela: Uh, no, not yet. Just relax.
Wendell: Bowling!
Angela: Bowling, yes.
Hodgins: Well, that would correspond with the high level of polyester in his garment.
Angela: And the fact that he was found in a bowling alley.

Wendell: What happened to your measuring tape?
Brennan: I don't know. Missing. There was a Post-It note from the Egyptology Department.

Wendell: You know, the only perimortem injury that I could find is this fracture to the nasal bone.
Hodgins: Who dies of a broken nose?
Wendell: Exactly. If I can't figure out the cause of death, Dr. Brennan's gonna be tossing me into that machine.
Hodgins: Right.
Wendell: You're supposed to say, "No, she'll understand."
Hodgins: Oh, but she won't.
Wendell: Ah, that is so funny.

Wexler: Inspector Pritchard, meet Dr. Brennan.
Pritchaard: Charming
Wexler: She's exactly like me.
Pritchaard: Charming, tenacious, salacious, sophomoric, euphoric, noble, ignoble, fatuous, horrid, morbid, torpid and tedious.
Wexler: Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere, Cate. So you found Portia Frampton?
Pritchaard: Well, the way we usually work, Ian, is I drag the bodies out of the Thames and you use your extraordinary capabilities to identify them.
Booth: Bones! They're like the English version of me and you.

Winkler: In my line of work, discretion is paramount.
Booth: Discretion can also be an accessory to murder.
'Winkler: I know my law, Seeley. I can't be charged for simply selling ammunition.
Caroline: Well, you see, cher, I am the law, and I can charge your scrawny ass with whatever I want.

Wyatt to Booth: So your problem with Dr. Brennan is that you don't know what will or will not catch fire or where you stand.

Wyatt: [to Brennan] In my opinion, you are unable to lead a purposeless life at this stage in your psycho-social development. Which, by the way, is an issue you should address, because a certain amount of purposelessness is necessary to lead a full life.
Brennan: I hate psychology.
Booth: You don't like it because he's saying that all this tension between me and you is your fault.
Wyatt: Mmm, on the contrary. [to Booth] If anything, your issues are more pronounced, given that your behavior has been affected by what turns out to be a quite irrational fear of being responsible for someone else's destiny.
Brennan: That makes sense.
Booth: Oh, now you like psychology.

Wyatt: 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?
Wyatt: 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.
Wyatt: How many people have you killed?
Booth: I lost count.
Wyatt: Oh, you could remember 180 bricks but not how many lives you've taken?
Booth: Epps makes fifty.
Wyatt: Fifty what?
Booth: (weighed down) Fifty kills.
Wyatt: 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.
Dr. Wyatt: 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.
Wyatt: 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.
Wyatt: You tend to do things well, don't you? Make coffee, build BBQ machines.
Booth: It's not really a machine.
Wyatt: Solve crimes, raise a son, love women, leave women. Whatever you aim at you hit.
Booth: Is that bad?
Wyatt: By no means, of course not. Except ...
Booth: Oh, okay, here we go. Let me have it, Doc.
Wyatt: Except it is indicative of a need to control your environment.
Booth': Again I ask, is that bad?
Wyatt: No, of course not, no. Except ...
Booth: Except?
Wyatt: Except when you shoot a clown.
Booth: You know, you make it sound like he was walking around making balloon animals.
Wyatt: For the most part your rebellions are small.
Booth: Rebellions?
Wyatt: 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: Earlier you said you weren't used to drinking tea with men which suggests to me that you're usually pretty rigid in your assignment of gender roles.
Booth: What? No, no. My partner is a woman, okay? A woman who needs my help.
Wyatt: But are you currently involved with anyone?
Booth: Just broke up with someone, okay? Me. And I ended it.
Wyatt: How long had you been involved with her? Or him.
Booth: Her! Let's get that straight, okay? Her. Couple of months this time.
Wyatt: This time?
Booth: We'd gone o- we'd gone out, b-before a-a f-few years ago, and I, I, ya know, we ah, I broke it up when ah, ya know, my ex wanted to give it another go. Ah! That's it. I shot the clown because I can't let go of the women in my life. Thanks, Doc. Alright. Now I can go back to work and you can sign the (faking a British accent) papa.
Wyatt: Excellent theory, but quite wrong! And, we're out of time. Tomorrow I'll wait for you?

Wyatt: I don't think Booth has brain damage.
Sweets: What's his problem?
Wyatt: May I ask why you didn't publish your book on Booth and Brennan?
Sweets: Is there a connection between my book and Booth's marksmanship?
Wyatt: I believe you didn't publish it because you're afraid of how Brennan and Booth would react to its conclusion.
Sweets: My book concludes that Brennan and Booth are in love with each other.
Wyatt: It's a scrummy conundrum, isn't it?
Sweets: I believe as a reaction to the childhood traumas of abuse and abandonment, Dr. Brennan utilizes her intellect to armor herself from intense levels of emotion, like love.
Wyatt: And Booth?
Sweets: Well, subconsciously he's sensitive to her vulnerability. He knows that acting upon his feelings for her would amount to a kind of assault.
Wyatt: I couldn't agree with you more.