Angela: It's a strange place for two people in love to end up.
Hodgins: What, a forensics lab?
Angela: No a squat in an abandoned pipe factory.
Hodgins: Right, yeah, right...

Angela: Maybe he dissolved himself so there'd be more of him to go around... I'm going to hell, aren't I?
Hodgins: I'll save you a seat.

Angela: This time, Art made Science her bitch.

Angela: We make our lives out of chaos and hope. And love.

Angela: What can't you tell me?
Brennan: By definition, I can't tell you.

Angela: What you thought were teeth marks, Dr. Saroyan, turned out to be Chinese characters engraved along the side.
Hodgins: What do they say?
Angela: They say, "What make foolish man think I speak Chinese?"
Hodgins: I thought you were half Chinese!
Angela: And I think you're half Swedish. Let's hear some Swedish!

Booth: Don't knock therapy, okay? Dr. Wyatt has helped me realize there are certain pressures that build up on the job, and I need creative ways--
Brennan: We do everything together.
Booth: --of dealing with them.
Brennan: What exactly do you have to contend with on the job that I don't?
Booth: You, Bones. You don't have to contend with you.

Booth: (referring to Brennan's little show in the gym) That was amazing! What got into you?
Brennan: It's from when I used to watch old movies with my dad--he really liked Clara Bow.
Booth: Bones, Clara Bow was in silent movies.
Brennan: Oh...then I guess that's just how I imagined she'd sound.

Booth: (to Agent Zhang) So, I dragged out one of the top forensic anthropologists across the country on the word of a prostitute?
Brennan: What difference does her profession make?
Booth: I'm backing you up.
Brennan: You're judging.
Booth: I wasn't judging, I had your back.
Brennan: Yeah, your voice was judging.
[Brennan is holding an icepack to Booth's head]

Booth: Cause of death?
Brennan: Well, since I can't find a skull, I'd say... his head got cut off.

Booth: Come on Alex, baby steps. [realises his mistake] No offence.
Brennan: [laughs] I just got that. It's baby steps because you're so small. It's probably offensive.
Alex: Sorry, I can't help you.
Brennan: Sorry.

Booth: Do you have a dog, Bones?
Brennan: I always wanted a pig...
Booth: A pig?
Brennan: Very smart, despite the popular misconception, very clean.

Booth: Don't we have some stabbing to do?
Angela: Yes. I hate my job.

Booth: Dr Brennan, she's pretty good at making dead people tell her things.

Booth: Dr. Wyatt.
Wyatt': Ah, Agent Booth is it? Yes, Gordon. Gordon Wyatt. (extends his hand to Booth but instead of his hand Booth pulls out a piece of paper from his back pocket)
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