But it's an act. I broke you, but um... yep, I can still smell it: you've got that delectable little whiff of defiance. You're just playing, huh? Waiting for your moment to retake the throne? Am I right?
Well, then. Tell me, once and future King of Hell: you've been watching my role. What treasonous thoughts do you have brewing in that little head of yours, huh?
You're not strong enough. You had your weapons delivered, you realize they won't be enough. If you thought you could beat Amara you'd be taking the fight to her! Right now!
You're a clever little doggy. You're right; at the moment, I may be a bit under-equipped. Maybe defeating Amara was a bit more of a team effort than I led certain people to believe. All that said, I'm still your Master. Did I let you out of that kennel too soon?
Captain James Dearborn, my name is Dean Winchester and I am on a mission from the future. The details of which I am not at liberty to discuss. But know this: within the hour, a German destroyer will find and attack this submarine. And you will go down.
I will touch your soul, just because you asked so nicely, and I'll use your spell to blast through the warding and retrieve Dean and the uh, Hand of God, and then when Dean comes back and he finds this place decorated with your guts, I will tell him the truth, Sam. I'll just say, 'Dean...' [Lucifer begins imitating Castiel] 'Dean, he knew the risks. He wouldn't take no for an answer.'
We’ve done nothing but mainline lore for a week, okay? We’ve got jack on another Hand of God and Amara, and we’ve got even less jack on how to save Cas.
Simmons: You can. You still have friends, people who want you back, who want Lucifer gone. I don’t know what he’s done to you. I can’t imagine, but you’re not a slave, a dog. You’re Crowley, and the Devil should be afraid of you.
I've been beat up, spit on, stabbed, roughed up, but I will be damned if I didn't always get back up. One thing I learned: you got to keep on grinding no matter what's thrown your way.
I bought drinks for all the wrestlers, and then, you know, they’re like, “well, you gotta drink too.” Oh, man, they can drink, especially Rio. Ugh, I think I heard my liver screaming at me.
I’ve never been much for God or whatever. I sort of just thought that when your curtain came down, that was it. Night night. But if you’re a demon, that means there’s a Hell. And if there’s a Hell, there's a Heaven. And I’m not giving up my shot at paradise for a belt I can win on my own.
There's a case down in Goodlettsville, Tennessee. Bobby had a call from another hunter, a guy named Harvey. He was hunting a case, house was rumored to be chock full of poltergeists. But he couldn't find the bones to burn, so he calls Bobby for backup. Bobby high-tails it down there, he goes into the house, buckshots, guns blazin'—
I stepped one foot inside that house, and filled my drawers. You could feel the badness, Rufus. I found Harv on the floor, in a coma. I tried to help, but he looked like he'd been there for days. And then I heard footsteps. I was trapped. But I had this old Celtic sigil. Sort of a 'break glass in case of emergency' sort of thing. Supposed to trap monsters, but to be honest, the damn thing never worked before. But it was all I had, so I started. And this house is bad juju, it just got a hell of a lot worse. Then I finished the sigil, and once I did, the house went back to normal.
Just savoring this. Though, I have to say, of all the ways I thought you'd go... heart attack, some fang, choking on a burger while binge-watching Charles in Charge...
