Garcia: Penelope’s house of “how may I save your ass today?”
Garcia: Oracle of Quantico. Speak if you deign to hear truth.
Garcia: He who seeks the Queen of All Knowledge, speak and be recognized.
Reid: Garcia, we’re sending you some cigarettes.
Garcia: Why not a flesh-eating virus? It’ll be faster and far less painful.
Garcia: Je suis toujours ici pour toi, mon cher.
Morgan: Drives me crazy when you talk that “voulez coucher” stuff to me.
Morgan: Hey dollface, ready to work some magic for me?
Garcia: Challenge me, you beautiful behavioral analyst.
Garcia: Are you lonely in the Lone Star state? And are you wearing chaps?
Morgan: Only in your dreams, Garcia
Garcia: Oh, not necessarily. I have Photoshop.
Morgan: Garcia, I had better never find any Photoshopped pictures of me on your computer.
Garcia: Oh trust me, my vision, you will never FIND them.
Garcia: Your friendly neighborhood Oracle of all things knowable and unknowable at your service.
Morgan: Garcia, baby girl, please tell me something I want to hear.
Garcia: You are a statuesque god of sculpted chocolate thunder?
Morgan: How about something I don’t already know?
Garcia: (pregnant pause) I have a sweet tooth?
Garcia: Talk dirty to me.
Strauss: This is Section Chief Erin Strauss.
Garcia: (horrified and red-faced) Ma’am, I think it goes without saying that I was expecting it to be someone else.
Garcia: (later) FBI Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia speaking.
Morgan: Hey girl you’re on speaker. Behave.
Garcia: Or what, you’ll spank me?
Prentiss: I love you, Penelope Garcia.
Garcia: Get in line!
Garcia: Go, from Ms. Penelope Garcia.
JJ: Are you ready with the trap and trace?
Garcia: Peaches, this is the Office of Unmitigated Superiority. I am always ready. With the awesome power I have in this room, all I need is 15 seconds on the phone to nail this skeevy perv.
JJ: Fifteen seconds?
Garcia: If that.
Garcia: Office of Unfettered Omniscience. Penelope Garcia is in. Speak, oh fortunate one.
Elle: Garcia, it’s Elle. Can you get into the phone repair records in San Diego?
Garcia: Sunshine, I can run CentCom from here and still participate in simultaneous Tetris tournaments.
(Garcia calls Morgan’s cell)
Morgan: Yeah, Morgan.
Garcia: Isn’t this spooky?
Morgan: Isn’t what spooky?
Garcia: That right now you were thinking about me, and out of the blue your phone rings? And it’s me. Huh? How’s that for a spiritual connection?
Morgan: Umm… Do I know you?
Garcia: Why do you hurt me? (Morgan laughs)
Hotchner: You’re a genius.
Garcia: You’re just saying that ‘cause it’s true.
Rossi: She’s different.
Hotchner: You have no idea.
Garcia: O Captain, my captain?
Garcia (in a stunningly sexy voice): Hey baby.
Morgan: Baby girl, we need to talk.
Garcia: PG or NC-17?
Morgan: You’re on speakerphone…
Garcia: I charge extra for groups.
…Gypsies? As in Gypsies Tramps and Thieves? Oh, bless you all for turning my life into a Cher song!
Garcia: You’ve reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI’s Office of Supreme Genius.
Morgan: Hey, it’s Morgan. Need you to work me some magic here. I got a program called Deadbolt Defense and a girl with only a couple of hours to live, so what do you know?
Garcia: Then you got a problem. Deadbolt’s the number one password crack-resistant software out there. You’re gonna have to get inside this guy’s head to get the password.
Morgan: I thought I was calling the Office of Supreme Genius.
Garcia: Well, gorgeous, you’ve been rerouted to the Office of Too Friggin’ Bad.
Morgan: Thanks anyway.
Garcia: I will make HIPAA my bitch, sir.
Garcia: Wish, you; command, me.
Garcia: Greetings, all – your herald bears tidings.
Morgan: Whatcha got, momma?
Morgan: You know, we forget half of what they teach us in school, but when it comes to the torment and the people who inflicted it, we’ve all got an elephant’s memory.
Garcia: Getting into someone’s mind and trying to find the god-awful thing that happened to them that made them do the God-awful thing to somebody else has seriously impaired my ability to giggle and it makes my brain all wonky and I don’t like it.
Hotchner: I know you see the good in people, Penelope, always. And I would never want you to change that.
Derek: Hey, how’s Miss Smart and Sexy doing today?
Garcia: Fair warning, cupcake. As much as I love you and our witty banter, I’m all out of witty and banter, and I’m struggling with love.
Derek: What’s wrong, baby?
Garcia: I’m standing at the crossroads of 31 lives and what I see is a train wreck.
Garcia: I want to believe that the world is just teeming with awesome people but all of this is giving me great pause … I want to go back to cyberspace.
If it walks like a duck and looks like a duck, then it’s a duck, and frankly I think you’re up to your knees in a duckpond.
Hotchner: Dr. Reid, our expert on…well, everything.
(dog barks and jumps on Reid)
Hotchner: It’s ok, it’s what we call the Reid effect; it happens with children, too.
Hotchner: This is Dr. Reid
Heather’s Brother: Doctor? You seem too young to have gotten into medical school…
Reid: They’re PhD’s. Three of them.
Heather’s Brother: Are you a genius or something?
Reid: I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute. Yes, I’m a genius.
Hotch (to Morgan): …Guess what Gideon means?
Reid (walking past): Mighty Warrior. Appropriate.
Garcia: Okay, you know how on Star Trek when Captain Kirk asked McCoy to do something totally impossible and McCoy says, “Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a miracle worker!”?
Morgan: Hey, what are you telling me? Not to expect a miracle?
Garcia: No, I’m saying I’m not a doctor.
Morgan: That’s my girl.
Morgan: Aww, poor baby. Try not to let the tears hit the paper, it gets a little messy.
Hotch: I spent most of my childhood looking for a 1958 nickel valued at over 10 thousand dollars. (everyone stares) Yes, I was a little bit of a nerd, is that so surprising?
Elle: Not to me…
Reid: You should see what comes up when you type “death” into a search engine.
Morgan: No wonder you can’t find a date.
Reid: Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?
Elle: Reid, I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.
Reid: Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?
Elle: Have you ever asked anyone?
Reid (shifts his eyes): No.
Elle: That’s why you can’t get a date.
Reid: I don’t know everything. I mean, despite the fact that you think I do.
Morgan: I never said that. When have I ever said that?
Reid: Every day since I met you.
Elle: This morning at breakfast.
Hotchner: Yesterday when he beat you at cards.
Mr. Davenport (talking to Reid): Excuse me – c-can you actually read that fast?
Reid: Our conscious mind can process 16 bits of information per second, our unconscious however can process 11 million. Yes, I, I really can read this fast.
Hotch: You know why they took away Boy Genius’s gun?
Philip Dowd: Why?
Hotch: He failed his qualification. Twice a year I gotta listen to him whine about requalifying so I tutored him, and he fails again.
Dowd: You think you got it rough? These people have done nothing but undermine me since I got here.
Hotch: Go next to the barricade. That way when they blast their way in both of our problems are solved. You could ruin a cop’s career.
Dowd: You are one sick dude.
Hotch: How do you think I found you?
Hotch: Can I ask you a favor?
Dowd: You could ask.
Hotch: I figure the chances of my getting out of here alive are pretty slim.
Hotch: Will you let me kick the snot out of this kid? He’s made my life miserable for three lousy years.
Dowd: Knock yourself out
Hotchner: Nice shot.
Reid: …I was aiming for his leg.
Hotchner: Well, I wouldn’t have kept kicking you, but I was afraid you didn’t get my plan.
Reid: I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire.
Hotchner: Well, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.
Reid: Hotch, I was a twelve year old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine year old girl. (Tries to hand back the gun)
Hotchner: No keep it. As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification.
Reid: I know I should feel bad about what happened. I mean, I killed a man. You know, I should feel something…but I don’t.
Gideon: Not knowing what you feel, that’s not the same as not feeling anything.
Gideon: This is going to hit you, and when it does, there’s only three facts you need to know. You did what you had to do, and a lot of good people are alive because of what you did.
Reid: What’s the third?
Gideon: I’m proud of you.
Morgan: That’s what everybody says until they find the body in the basement.
Elle: Can you get into those records?
Reid: Despite the fact that they were probably expunged, she can find the faintest echo of deletion, successfully recreate the file, thereby sending us all to prison for computer felony fraud counts.
Elle: We can make bail.
Morgan: And remember, play into the guy’s fantasy, believe it yourself.
Reid: Actually, did you know that dentists and surgeons have been secretly recruited to implant these during otherwise normal medical procedures? This has been happening on and off since the late 1930s. (Morgan looks at him) Told me to believe.
Elle: Um, Reid you probably saved my life in there.
Reid: Probably? I totally saved your life. And I’m pretty certain it’s caught on tape.
Morgan: So tell me, what does keep young Dr. Reid awake at night? Wait, let me guess. Memorizing some obscure textbook? No, no, no. Working on cold fusion? No, I got it, I got it, I got it. Watching Star Trek and laughing at all the physics mistakes?
Reid: Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors.
(Gideon enters on crutches)
Hotchner: What happened to you?
Gideon: Oh, I got a list of things I try before it’s too late.
Elle: And orthopedic surgery is one of them?
Gideon: No, skydiving. Apparently it’s all about the landing.
Hotchner: How is it having Gideon around?
Garcia: You can have him back whenever you would like.
Gideon: Hey Hotch, did you send flowers to that tech room girl Garcia and say they were from me?
Hotchner: Jason, people need to know that they’re important and sometimes you forget that.
Gideon: I already sent her a gift. An MP3 player. It lasts longer, unless you drop it or the batteries die, whichever comes first.
Hotchner: So she got two gifts?
Gideon: What if she thinks I’m sweet on her!
Ryan (reading second note): In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present.
Gideon: He’s quoting Sir Francis Bacon now.
Ryan: I used this specific quote in my…
Reid: In your book on page 184. I read it on the plane.
Ryan: And you remember the page number and the quote?
Morgan: Don’t ask.
Blackwolf: (to Gideon) You look like a college professor. (to Reid) You look like his student. (to Hotchner) You look like FBI.
Officer: Are you trying to tell us that Indians wouldn’t be so brutal?
Blackwolf: No, I’m saying that Indians wouldn’t be so confused.
Gideon: Are the Ga’he good spirits or bad spirits?
Blackwolf: They’re both. Like men.
Blackwolf: Samuel, tell the men from the FBI who the Ga’he are.
Reid: The Ga’he are mighty spirits who dwell in desert caves.
Hotchner: Reid, is your name Samuel?
Gideon: What do you see?
Blackwolf: There’s a saying, ‘Once too much blood has been spilled on the same ground, the ground develops a thirst for it.’
Reid: I notice you don’t carry a gun.
Blackwolf: Twenty-one feet.
Blackwolf: Ask Agent Hotchner there, he’s the real gun-hand.
Hotchner: Why do you say that?
Blackwolf: You carry two guns.
Hotchner (to Reid): The maximum distance an attacker with a knife can close and the time it takes to react, draw your sidearm, and fire is twenty-one feet.
Blackwolf: Inside twenty-one feet I win. Outside twenty-one, I have other options besides shooting a man.
Reid: Like negotiating.
Blackwolf: Like running.
Hotchner: Why do you say I carry two guns?
Blackwolf: Your right instep print’s heavier than your left and since you don’t appear to have a clubbed right foot…
Hotchner: You can’t tell that from my footprints, there’s no perceptible difference between them.
Blackwolf: Your problem isn’t with your prints. It’s with your perception.
(Hotch draws his gun)
Blackwolf: Put that away.
Blackwolf: You don’t need it. Use your baton.
Blackwolf: There are many paths to the same place. Trust me.
Hotchner: Just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie. (whips out his baton)
Blackwolf: At least I didn’t shoot him.
Morgan: Think I’d rather be shot.
Hotchner: There’s an old Apache saying, ‘You can take many paths to get to the same place.’
Reid: I’d like to see New York.
Morgan: You’ve never been to New York?
Reid: We’ve never had an unsub there.
Hotchner: (to Gideon) I thought you were going to talk to Reid about taking some vacation time?
Gideon: What’s vacation time?
Reid (to waitress): Excuse me, could I get a fork perhaps? (the others laugh) Did you know that experts credit Confucius with the advent of the chopstick? He equated knives with acts of aggression.
Morgan: You don’t know how to use them, do ya?
Reid: It’s like trying to forage for dinner with a pair of number two pencils. … It’s absolutely incredible, 1.3 billion people stay nourished because of these things.
Hotchner: OK, here’s what we know. Blitz attackers are almost always male.
Morgan: Well, he got picked up in the pouring rain by a New York cabbie, so we definitely know he’s not a brother.
Jessica: You’re holding him like a cantaloupe.
Hotchner: Why? You think you can do better? Here you go, smartypants. (Aaron quiets down in her arms) Fine. Let’s see you profile a disorganized psychopath.
(Garcia rattles off some not-quite Spanish over speaker – to Morgan, in a Mexican police station)
Morgan: Easy there, Garcia. I think you just offended somebody’s mother.
Garcia: Shut up you. I took French. What can I say?
Morgan: Penelope, your last name is Garcia.
Garcia: Yeah, I know. It’s my stepfather’s name. Do you want my genius or not?
Garcia: Aaron, do you have any idea how many people drown every day?
Hotchner: Well, yeah. They’re more in the summer for obvious reasons, but I think it averages to about 6500 a year, which is… 17 a day?
Garcia: Is this Reid?
Garcia: Hey, you do know what this means? We can find out if Princess Diana’s death really was accidental!
JJ: I think that’s exactly the kind of thing that got you on the list.
JJ (about the incredible Sir Kneighf): Please don’t tell me you have a crush on a fictional character.
Garcia: He’s not fictional. He’s the online alter-ego of a real person.
JJ: Hmmm, you don’t even know anything about him, even if it is…him.
Garcia: Look, we meet online at specified times that he is never late to. We spend hours adventuring and chatting during which time I have his undivided attention and he lavishes me with flattery. When was the last time you had a date go that well?
JJ: See if he’s got a fictional brother.
Jamaican Cop: Where is the victim’s head?
Elle: Well, I must have dropped it on my way in here.
Reid (discussing a Chaucer poem): My mom used to read me that. It’s widely considered as the first Valentine’s poem.
Garcia: Your mom read you Valentine’s poems? Hello, therapy.
Hotchner: What the hell was that?
Reid: He had a bomb.
Morgan: You didn’t think we needed to know that?
Reid: I told you to go downstairs.
Morgan: You didn’t say “bomb!”
Garcia: Hey, I got four bank robberies worth of security footage, what do you want me to do with them?
Hotchner: You know your digital perspect whatever software?
Garcia: Digital Perspective Analysis rendering?
Garcia: Honey, not only do I know it, I helped develop it.
Garcia: Honey, if he opens his mouth I’ll tell you the length of his teeth.
Hotchner: Just keep it clean. And don’t call me “honey.”
Gideon: Save one life, we save the world.
Morgan: Oh, one last thing. Look up the words “sexy” and “brilliant” in that computer of yours, and tell me what you come up with.
Garcia: Look at that, it’s me.
Morgan: You are a goddess, woman. Ciao. (to surrounding fertility clinic patients, most of whom are paying rapt attention) …It was a work call.
Reid: Garcia, I’m sitting in the dark alone, thanks.
Garcia: While you’re waiting for a potential murderer to come home? Kind of dangerous. Kind of sexy.
Morgan: You really are afraid of the dark.
Reid: Yeah, well, I’m working on that.
Morgan: Yeah, well, maybe you should work harder.
Garcia: Reid, seriously, people that go inside that house never come out. Spoooky.
Reid: Garcia, could you at least pretend not to enjoy that rumor so much since I have actually entered that house?
Morgan: The only thing I was afraid of was the dark.
Reid: Some of us still are.
JJ: The woods were the only thing I was afraid of when I was a kid.
Morgan: Seriously? I thought you grew up in a small town.
JJ: Yeah… surrounded by woods.
Morgan: So, why the woods, JJ?
Morgan: Your fear, you said it was of the woods.
JJ: Er, I used to be a camp counselor when I was a teenager, in the woods up around Vermont. I had the night shift, you know, tuck the girls in, turn off the lights, you know, the typical drill. Everything seemed fine. The kids were asleep, you know, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Until… I noticed that there was some blood on the hallway floor. So I followed the blood trail down the hall to the camp director’s cabin, walked up to his bed, and… he was just lying there, under his covers, dead. Someone stabbed him. I ran out of there so fast, out the door, down the hall. I can just remember it being really dark. Once I got to the door, there was another counselor there; I guess she heard me scream. They caught the caretaker on his way out of town. I guess he still had the knife on him. Anyway, I guess that’s probably when I decided I didn’t like the woods.
Morgan: You’re serious?
JJ: No! (shakes head) I mean you fell for that? Come on! I don’t know why I’m afraid of the woods! I am. Why is he still afraid of the dark?
Morgan: Yeah, Reid why are you still afraid of the dark?
Reid: Because of the inherent absence of light!
Reid: I need to stop by a bookstore and pick up a copy of Empty Planet. I’d like to reread it before we talk to the author… I haven’t read it since I was six.
Morgan: Six? I was still riding my Big Wheels at six years old.
Reid: Do you mind? It will only take ten minutes.
Gideon: To buy it or to read it?
Reid: Uh… both, actually.
Reid: Yet the words ‘holy’ and ‘war’ never appear together in the Qu’ran.
Gideon: We receive comfort from our prayers.
Jind Allah: We?
Gideon: Human beings. (pause) I say something wrong?
Jind Allah: You placed us on the same level.
Gideon: Aren’t we?
Jind Allah: Well, here, I am thought of as less than human.
Gideon: And in your jihad, I am.
Jind Allah: Who is your worst enemy, Agent Gideon?
Gideon: It’s not a who, it’s a what. Ignorance.
Reid: I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind.
Reid: “One begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.” It’s one of Sherlock Holmes’ favorite quotes.
Reid: A psycho with a whistle. That’s not too weird.
JJ: You’re the best ever.
Garcia: Awww… And you’re the most perceptive!
Prentiss (in a bar, returning to the other girls with a young man in tow): Ladies, this is Brad – a real FBI agent!
JJ: Really? No way!
Garcia: That’s exciting! What’s it like at Quan-ti-co?
JJ: Must be tough keeping all those secrets.
Brad: It’s a skill, like anything else. Carpenters are good at building stuff, measuring. The FBI’s good at keeping secrets and kicking criminal ass.
Prentiss: Can we see it?
Brad: See what?
Prentiss: Your badge.
Brad: I’m sorry, that’s classified.
Prentiss (holds up her badge): Tell me Brad, does it look anything like this?
JJ (holds up hers): Or this?
Garcia (holds up hers): Or maybe, this?
(Brad hurries away)
Erin Strauss: I believe you’re no longer effective in your post.
Hotchner: Modern furniture … strategically placed magazines, the framed diplomas, the art in the wall…they’re all in conflict with your family photos. You have three children but you favor the middle one, your son.
Erin Strauss: What do you think you’re doing?
Hotchner: Of course, you love all your children but not like your son.
Erin Strauss: That’s enough!
Hotchner: The bonsai you obsessively nurture is to compensate for feelings of failure as a mother…
Erin Strauss: Agent Hotchner, I said that’s enough!! My position is not in question here. As your superior, I am questioning your ability to lead your team…
Hotchner: My team? Let me tell you about my team: Agent Morgan fought to protect his identity from the very people who could save him. Why? Because trust has to be earned, and there are very few people he truly trusts. Reid’s intellect is a shield which protects him from his emotions, and at the moment his shield is under repair. Prentiss over-compensates because she doesn’t yet feel she’s a part of the team; she needn’t worry. Everyday Agent Jareau fields dozens of requests for our team, and every night she goes home hoping she has made the right choices. Garcia fills her office with figurines and color, to remind herself to smile as the horror fills her screens… And Agent Gideon in many ways is damned by his profound knowledge of others, which is why he shares so little of himself, yet he pours his heart into every case we handle. I stand by my actions, and I stand by my team, and if you think that you can find a better person for the job, then good luck.
Reid: It hit me when Morgan freaked out when we were stuck in the elevator.
Prentiss: You got stuck in an elevator?
Morgan: I freaked?
Reid: That’s not important.
Prentiss: These guys are killing the Cleavers.
Hotch: The pattern?
Reid: No, the Cleavers. Of all the names for a 1950s idyllic TV family. I mean it’s rife with violent implication. Kind of makes you wonder how the writers really felt about suburbia, huh?
Hotch: Focus, please!
Trailer Park Manager: What the hell do you want? Can’t you read?
Reid: I’m not a salesman. I’m with the FBI.
Trailer Park Manager: FBI? You’re not serious! You look like a pipe cleaner with eyes. I could snap you like a twig.
Rossi: But then… (steps into view and flashes credentials) …he isn’t alone.
Reid: A popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimate that the hyper-matter reactor would need about 10 to the 32nd joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of Earth. Now, Lucas said it took 19 years to build the first Death Star, right, but if you look at the new essential chronology there’s a test bed prototype for a super laser that’s been… Where’re you going?
Morgan: Taking back the last five minutes of my life.
Stranger: James. James Baylor. My friends call me Colby.
Garcia: Penelope. Garcia. My friends call me Wonderful.
Morgan (to Garcia): Good morning, princess.
Garcia: Good morning.
Morgan: Hold your brakes. Everyday I say ‘Good Morning’. Everyday you say ‘I’ll show you a ‘Good Morning’ hot stuff’ Everyday. Not today?
Garcia: I hate profilers. You know that?
Morgan: Spit it out.
Garcia: Well, I met a guy…
Morgan: You did what? Where?
Garcia: Coffee shop. Smoking hot. I fixed his computer and then he asked for my number.
Morgan: And you just…?
Garcia: Gave it to him. Can you believe that? A complete stranger. Did I mention he was smoking hot?
Morgan: Uh, yeah, yeah. I think you did.
Garcia: When I was in the ambulance I could hear the song “Heroes” playing in my head. I kept flashing in and out of consciousness and I remember thinking, “Wait. Is David Bowie really God?”
Garcia: Go. Be free, my love.
Morgan: Hey, I’m not going anywhere.
Garcia: Oh, I’m fine. I got my goon squad parked out front.
Morgan: Goon squad or no goon squad, that couch right there is going to be my best friend until we catch this guy. Now leave it alone.
Garcia: Okay… But if you’re thinking of trying to take advantage of me, let me call my doctor so you can revive me afterwards.
Morgan: Hey, Silly Girl.
Morgan: I love you, you know that, right?
Garcia: I love you, too.
Morgan (Handing Garcia a gun): Take this and stay put.
Garcia: No no no, I don’t believe in guns!
Morgan: Well trust me they’re very real. Now take it.
Garcia: Do you know who Frank Miller is?
Morgan: Frank Miller… Sounds familiar. Un-sub?
Garcia (laughs): No, graphic novelist. 300? Sin City?
Morgan: Oh, right, right, right. Cool movies.
Garcia: He said something once and it makes me think of you. “The noir hero is a knight in blood caked armor. He’s dirty and he does his best to deny the fact that he’s a hero the whole time.”
Garcia: I might be in big trouble.
JJ (looking at her files, sarcastically): Come on in.
Garcia: I can’t believe he showed up at my apartment.
JJ: It’s not like I’m doing anything here…
Garcia: We just had a seminar on fraternization last week!
JJ: I really have a lot of work to do, Garcia…
Garcia: So you don’t want to hear how Agent Rossi showed up at my door in the middle of the night while I was enjoying a post-coital shower with fellow FBI technical analyst Kevin Lynch?
JJ (head snaps up): Sit.
Kevin: Agent Rossi, we need to talk….about Penelope……man to man.
Rossi: Man to man?
Morgan: What about Penelope?
JJ (in a sing-song voice): Garcia and Kevin sitting in a tree… (walks away)
Morgan: Get out of here… you serious? (walks away)
Prentiss: Just when I thought that nothing scandalous was ever going to happen around here.
Reid: What? What does that mean?
Prentiss: Didn’t you hear JJ?
Reid: The song meant something? No. No, I missed it!
Prentiss: It… it… it… You know what? Never mind.
Det. Jarvis: You’re a little young, aren’t you? No offense.
Reid: None taken. In fact neuroprocessing speeds reach their maximum at around age 15, so when it comes to being affected by crime scenes and other graphic visual input we are all really the same age.
Garcia: If you look to your cursor, you’ll notice that it’s moving on its own. That’s me hacking your secure network. Now I’ve got her file, now I’ve got her social, and because you’re grumpy, I’m going to send your boss those Jamaican vacation photos. Check you out, no tan lines.
Reid: I’d like to get a map of the borough, I wanna do a comprehensive geographical profile of the area in order to ascertain the unsub’s mental map before it’s clouded by our own linkage points.
Detective Preston: I see you brought your own computer.
Morgan: There’s something I really want you to know, Garcia.
Garcia: Save it! Just get out!
Morgan: No, no, no, I’m not quite there yet.
Morgan: Just listen to me.
Garcia: Morgan, please.
Morgan: You know what you are, Garcia?
Garcia: Morgan! Derek? (very near tears)
Morgan: Garcia? (Garcia goes limp with relief) I’ll tell you what you are to me. You’re my God-given solace. Woman, you promise me one thing: whatever happens, don’t you ever stop talking to me…
Garcia: I can’t right now ’cause I’m mad at you.
Morgan: I can wait.
Emily (poking Reid gently in the cheek after he has mentioned how it was quicker to solve the Bacon Cipher longhand instead of using a computer): He’s so lifelike…
Prentiss: Well, “roadside hotels” definitely go on my list. … Of things to never do again.
Reid: You have a list?
Rossi: You don’t?
Morgan (holding JJ’s baby): Look, look, what’s he doing? He’s smiling at Derek Morgan.
Garcia & Prentiss: Gas.
Rossi (in response to question, “Where did you get this kid?“): He was left in a basket on the steps of the FBI.
Hotchner: Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up what’s happened that day. Sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly right, and still you feel like you failed. Did it need to end that way? Could something have been done to prevent the tragedy in the first place? Eighty-nine murders at the pig farm, the deaths of Mason and Lucas Turner make 91 lives snuffed out. Kelly Shane will go home and try to recover, to reconnect with her family but she’ll never be a child again. William Hightower, who gave his leg for his country, gave the rest of himself to avenge his sister’s murder. That makes 93 lives forever altered, not counting family and friends in a small town in Sarnia, Ontario, who thought monsters didn’t exist until they learned that they spent their lives with one. And what about my team? How many more times will they be able to look into the abyss? How many more times before they won’t ever recover the pieces of themselves that this job takes? Like I said, sometimes there are no words or clever quotes to neatly sum up what’s happened that day.
Hotch: Guess we’ll have to double up.
Morgan (immediately): I’m not sleeping with Reid.
Garcia grabs his arm
Garcia: Aw, frack.
Rossi: You don’t often hear “popular” and “decapitation” in the same sentence.
Emily: Tell me you found something, babe.
Garcia: Emily, don’t get ahead of my dramatic telling.
Garcia (holding a perfect coffee): Next stop, Xanadu.
JJ’s cell phone rings
Reid (having put his foot in his mouth up to the knee): I’m merely speaking theoretically.
Morgan’s sister: You’re Dr Reid, aren’t you.
Morgan’s sister: Derek talks about you.
(a Star Trek challenge for Reid in a bar)
And the Doctor McCoy quote?
Five … four… three… two …
Reid: I will not peddle flesh – I am a physician.
Richard Slessman: There is only a 7% success rate of CPR working outside of the hospital. Actually, it ranges anywhere from 2% to 30%, depending on the situation, and there is also only a 6% to 15% chance of CPR working in the hospital.
Reid: …Knowledge of law enforcement does suggest a criminal record.
Morgan: Or that he watches television.
Reid (about Gideon): Do you know why he always introduces me as “Doctor” Reid?
Hotchner: Because he knows that people see you as a kid, and he wants to make sure that they respect you.
Gideon: You rely too much on precedent, you never allow for the unexpected.
Garcia: How often do I tell you I love you?
Morgan: Every day. It’s implied.
Hotch: Garcia, when you applied for this job you gave me your resume on home-made pink stationery. I realized then that you were unique, and I wouldn’t want you to do anything to change that.
Gideon: Finding new ways to hurt each other is what we’re good at.
Prentiss: Thank you.
Reid: For what?
Prentiss: For being you.
Reid: You’re welcome. I don’t know how to be anyone else.
Prentiss: That’s what I love about you.
The Longest Night
JJ (Speaking to Billy Flynn over the radio system): But I am a mother. And I, I know what your mother did to you when you were little. What she was… What– What she made you watch, what she let men do to you and it makes me so… …it’s just… not fair. And — and no one, no one can make that better. I wish I could. I do. But if I could somehow go back there and make what was happening to you stop, I could just pick you up, and tell you that all would be okay. That’s what moms are supposed to do…They are not supposed to be the cause of your pain; they are supposed to make it go away. They are supposed to hold you and tell you that everything is going to be alright. They are supposed to tell you that thunder is angel’s bowling, and that it is okay to be afraid of the dark and that it is not silly to think that there are be monsters in your closet and that it is ok that if you want to climb into bed with them just this once, because it is scary in the room all alone. They are supposed to say that it is okay to be afraid, and not be the thing that you are afraid of. But most importantly, they are supposed to love you no matter what. What happened to you isn’t fair, it is not right. But… I am supposed to empathize with you, sympathize, understand. But I can’t. That would be a lie. The truth is… I don’t understand what you’ve done. I don’t sympathize with you killing people all these years and I especially don’t understand you taking Ellie. What I can do, is to tell you what a mother should tell you. That you cant take away your pain by hurting someone else. That it doesn’t make all the nights you have been scared and alone any better if you scare someone else the way you are scaring Ellie. What happened to you, it isn’t fair, but what you are doing to her isn’t fair either. And if anyone should understand what that feels like, it’s you. You have the power. You can do what you want to do. But for once, you could choose to use that power to do for Ellie what should have been done for you. You can choose letting her go. You can choose teaching her that yes, there are monsters, and it is okay to be afraid of them, but it is not okay to let them win, and it is not okay to be one.
JJ: You’re still here?
Garcia: Figured you’d get to me eventually. (pauses) You’re leaving? (pauses) You could have told me. I would have done something. I would have made it impossible for them to let you go. I would have put something in your file.
JJ: It’s not up to me. Or Hotch.
Garcia: Don’t they understand that we’re a family? That that’s why this works is because we’re a family? Do they even care?
JJ: I don’t know
Garcia: I can’t believe… Okay. No. That’s…. I’m supposed to say that this is a great opportunity. Which it is. I don’t know the way this place works without you. You’re like the glue around here. Who’s gonna make us feel safe?
JJ: There’s plenty of big strong men around.
Garcia: See that, right there? Your total ignorance to how awesome you are? It’s one of the 5000 things I love about you.
JJ: I’m still going to be in the city. Okay? More than normal probably.
Garcia: Sure. Then we’ll make a plan. Breakfast every Tuesday. Then life gets in the way. And what if I only see you on birthdays and holidays?
JJ: I won’t let that happen.
Garcia: Ok. It better not because I know where to find you.
JJ: I’m thankful for my years spent with this family, for everything we shared, every chance we had to grow. I’ll take the best of them with me and lead by their example wherever I go. A friend told me to be honest with you, so here it goes: this isn’t what I want, but I’ll take the high road. Maybe it’s because I look at everything as a lesson or because I don’t want to walk around angry. Or maybe it’s because I finally understand. There are things we don’t want to happen but have to accept; things we don’t want to know but have to learn; and people we can’t live without but have to let go.
Rossi: There’s no winning. There’s living. Moving forward. If you keep doing that you’ll be all right.
Ashley Seaver: Is that true?
Rossi: It is for me.
Strauss: You don’t understand what the politics are, do you Dave. You never have.
Rossi: No, I do. I just don’t care.
Prentiss (regarding her new case of poison ivy): If I’ve got it, you’ve got it too.
Rossi: I’m Italian. It knows better.
Rossi: Life is a hell of a thing to happen to someone.