Dean: (talking about his dad) You know I love the guy but I swear he writes like freaking Yoda.

Sam: What the hell are you doing here?
Dean: I was looking for a beer.
Sam: Dean… what the hell are you doing here?
Dean: Okay, all right. We gotta talk.
Sam: Um… the phone?
Dean: If I would’ve called you, would you have picked up?

Sam: When I told dad when I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45 [Magnum].
Dean: Well what was he supposed to do?
Sam: I was 9 years old! He was supposed to say “Don’t be afraid of the dark.”
Dean: Don’t be afraid of the dark? What are you kidding me, of course you should be afraid of the dark! You know what’s out there!

Sam: Just try to relax.
Dean: Just try to shut up.

Dean: I’ll say it again. Demons I get, people are crazy!

Cop: So, fake U.S. Marshall. Fake credit cards. You got anything that’s real?
Dean: My boobs. (Smart @$$ grin)

Sam: The question is, why bugs and why now?
Dean: That’s two questions.

Real Estate Agent: We accept home owners of all race, religion, color, or… sexual orientation.
Dean: Right. Um, I’m going to go talk to Larry. Okay, Honey? (smacks Sam on the butt)

Dean: You see that? That attitude there? That’s why I always got the extra cookie.

Sam: I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you’re still a pain in the ass. But Jess and Mom — they’re both gone. Dad is God knows where. You and me. We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.
Dean: Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.

Sam: You mind doin’ a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?

SAM: So, you talked to the cops?
DEAN: Uh, yeah. (He smirks.) I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law.
SAM: Yeah? What’d you find out?
DEAN: (dreamily) Well, she’s a Sagittarius. She loves tequila, I mean—wow. Oh, and she’s got this little tattoo—
SAM: Dean!
DEAN: What? Yeah. Uh, nothin’ we don’t already know.

DEAN: I talked to the bartender.
SAM: Did you get anything? Besides her number?
DEAN: Dude, I’m a professional. I’m offended that you would think that. (SAM gives him a knowing look.) All right, yeah. (He chuckles and holds up a napkin with the bartender’s phone number on it.)
SAM: You mind doin’ a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?

Dean: Our family’s not cursed. We just have our dark spots.
Sam: [laughing bitterly] Our dark spots are pretty dark.
Dean: [attempting a comeback] You’re….dark.

Kat: So, how do you guys know about all this ghost stuff?
Sam: It’s kind of our job.
Kat: Why would anyone want a job like that?
Sam: I had a crappy guidance counselor.

Andrea: [to Dean] Must be hard, with your sense of direction. Never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.

Sam: [finding Dean’s trail of peanut M&Ms] It’s better than bread crumbs.

Dean: Okay, wait a second. You’re trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he’s real?
Sam: I don’t know, maybe.
Dean: People believe in Santa Claus. How come I’m not gettin’ hooked up every Christmas?
Sam: ‘Cause you’re a bad person.

Dean: Vampires. It gets funnier every time I hear it.

Sam: Dude, dude, I am not using this ID.
Dean: Why not?
Sam: Because it says “bikini inspector” on it.

John: All right, if somethin’ tries to bust in?
Young Dean: Shoot first, ask questions later.
John: That’s my man.

John: Alright, something like this start happening to your brother you pick up the phone and you call me.
Dean: Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad, I called you from Lawrence, alright? Sam called you when I was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone – I got a better chance of winning the lottery.

Sam: Hey, there’s salt over here, right inside the door.
Dean: You mean ‘protection against a demon’ salt or ‘oops I spilt the popcorn’ salt?

Dean: I hate rats.
Sam: Would you rather it was a ghost?
Dean: YES!!

Dean: That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature.
Sam: Yeah, it’s me. He went to Rebecca’s, lookin’ like you.
Dean: Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one.

Dean: The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed-off spirit is the pissed-off spirit of a psycho killer.

Sam: Dude, you gotta update your cassette tape collection.
Dean: Why?
Sam: For one thing, they’re cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica… it’s like the greatest hits of mullet rock.
Dean: House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.

Dean: House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.

Dean: Your, uh, half-caff double vanilla latte’s getting cold over here, Francis.
Sam: Bite me.

Sam: There’s nothing wrong with normal.

Dean: *talking to Sam on phone* Now why don’t you give that girl a private stripper-gram.
Sam: Bite me.
Dean: No, bite her! Don’t leave teeth marks though, just enough to…
*Sam hangs up*
Dean: Sam? Ye…
*Dean hangs up*

Sam: Hey, Dean? What I said earlier… about Mom and Dad, I’m sorry.
Dean: No chick-flick moments.
Sam: All right. Jerk.
Dean: Bitch.

Dean(referring to the Impala): Woah!! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?
Sam: You know, if you two want to get a room, just let me know, Dean.
Dean: Don’t listen to him, baby. He doesn’t understand us

Sheriff: What newspaper did you say you work for?
Dean: World Weekly News…
Sam: Weekly World News.
Dean: World –
Sam: Weekly World –
Dean: Weekly… I’m new.
Sheriff: Get out of my office.

Dean: My name is Dean Winchester. I am an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women.

Sam: Are you okay?
Ava: Am I okay?
Sam: Yeah.
Ava: I just helped you steal some dead guy’s confidential psych files. I’m awesome!

Dean: Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we’re gay?
Sam: Well, you are kind of butch. They probably think you’re overcompensating.
Dean: (uncomfortable chuckle) Right.

Sam: You’re bossy.
Dean: What?!
Sam: You’re bossy. And short… (chuckles)
Dean: Are you drunk?
Sam: Yeah! So? Stupid.

Dean: Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog and secret passageways, sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we’re inside. Mmm. Daphne. Love her.

Dean: That lore about unicorns is true too. I hear they ride on silver moonbeams, and shoot rainbows out of their ass.
Sam: Wait… there’s no such thing as unicorns?

Sam: Your dirty socks in the sink! Your food in the fridge!
Dean: What’s wrong with my food?
Sam: It’s not food anymore, Dean! It’s Darwinism!

Bobby: You’re bickering like an old married couple.
Dean: No, see, married couples can get divorced. Me and him? We’re like, Siamese twins.
Sam: It’s conjoined twins.
Dean: See what I mean?

Molly: Thank God!
Dean: Call me Dean.

Dean: You are like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.
Sam: Yeah, I know.

Sam: Month after month all the murders happen in the week leading up to the full moon.
Dean: Which is this week, right?
Sam: Hence the lawyer.
Dean: {gleefully} Awesome.
Sam: Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?
Dean: I’m sorry, man, but what about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight don’t you understand. I mean werewolves are badass, we haven’t seen one since we were kids.
Sam: {sarcastically} Okay, sparky, and you know what, after we kill it we can go to Disneyland

Dean: Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?

Sam: So, I’m gonna look after Madison while you go check the guy.
Dean: No, I’ll stay with the hot chick and you can go.
Sam: Why do you always get the girl?
Dean: Cuz I’m older.
Sam: Fine there’s only one way to settle this.
Dean and Sam: Rock paper scissors
Sam: Yes, Dean, always with the scissors.
Dean: No, wait! Best two out of three.
Sam and Dean: Rock paper scissors (Dean does scissors again)

Sam: I hate this plan Dean.
Dean: Yeah, I got that the first ten times I heard it.

Professor: Son? You been drinking?
Dean: Everybody keeps asking me that. But, uh, no.

Sam: Andy, you still with me, or what?
Andy: Give me a minute, I’m still working through „Demons are real.“

Sam: I kinda can’t believe it, Dean. I mean our whole lives, everything has been prepping for this and now I… I kinda don’t know what to say.
Dean: I do. That was for our mom, you son of a bitch.

Henricksen: You think you’re funny?
Dean: I think I’m adorable.

Dean: You’re good… you’re a monster pain in the ass… but you’re good.

Sam: So I’m a freak now?
Dean: You’ve always been a freak.

Sam: How would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?
Dean: It’s be the last thing you ever did.

Sam: Dude you mind not eating those on my bed?
Dean: No, I don’t mind.

Randall: Why you inside, kid? [inside prison]
Sam: ‘Cause I got an idiot for a brother.
Randall: That’ll do it.

Dean: (to the Yellow Eyed Demon’s corpse) Well, check that off the to-do list.

Sam: I think it’s Snow White.
Dean: Snow White? Ah, I saw that movie. Oh, porn version anyway.

Dean: I’m gonna stop the big bad wolf. Which is the weirdest thing I’ve ever said.

Sam: How do you sleep at night?
Bela: On silk sheets, rolling naked in money.

Dean: Can I shoot her?
Sam: Not in public.

Dixon: I was desperate. You ever felt desperate? I lost everyone I’ve ever loved. I’m staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?
Dean: Well, there’s hell.

Sam: You were possessed.
Henriksen: Possessed like… possessed?
Sam: That’s what it feels like. Now you know
Dean: I owe you the biggest „I told you so“ ever.

Dean: Hey, Ed, listen to me. There’s some salt in my duffel. Make a circle and get inside.
Ed:…Inside your duffel bag?
Dean: In the salt, you idiot!

Dean: Sammy, wherever you are – Mom is a babe! I’m so going to hell. Again.

Samuel: She wants to hunt, she doesn’t want to hunt. Is this some female ‘time of the month’ thing?“

Wesley: Aren’t you the guys from the Health Department?
Sam: Yeah. And florists on the side.
Dean: Plus FBI. And on Thursdays, we’re teddy bear doctors.

Sam: She was convinced that he wasn’t her real daddy.
Dean: Who was? The plumber, hmmm? A little snaking the pipes?
Sam: Dude, you’re confusing reality with porn again.

Ruby: What?
Dean: Nothing. It’s just… an angel and a demon, riding in the back seat. It’s like the setup for a bad joke. Or a Penthouse Forum letter.
Sam: Dude… reality… porn.
Dean: You call this reality?

Dean: Why would you want to be one of us? A bunch of, of miserable bastards, I mean, eating, crapping, confused, afraid..
Anna: I dunno, there’s loyalty, forgiveness.. love?
Dean: Pain?
Anna: Chocolate cake.
Dean: Guilt?
Anna: Sex.
Dean: Yeah, you got me there.

Dean: What a douchebag.
Sam: That’s Jeb Dexter.
Dean: I don’t even want to know how you know that.
Sam: He’s famous, kind of.
Dean: For what, douchebaggery?

Sam: You seem pretty cheery.
Dean: Strippers, Sammy. Strippers! We are on an actual case involving strippers. Finally!

Cara: We’ve all got our own sad stories so… screw it. Have fun, no regret, and live life like there’s no tomorrow.

Dean: Behave yourself, would you? No homework, watch some porn.

Bobby: You stupid, stupid, son of a bitch. Well boo-hooo I am so sorry your feelings are hurt – Princess. Are you under the impression that families are supposed to make you feel good? Make you an apple pie maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family.

Dean: What if we win? I’m serious. I mean, screw the angels and the demons and their crap Apocalypse. They want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one’s ours, and I say they get the hell off of it. We take ’em all on. We kill the Devil. Hell, we even kill Michael if we have to, but we do it our own damn selves.
Bobby: And how are we supposed to do all this, genius?
Dean: I got no idea. But what I got is a G.E.D. and a „give ’em hell“ attitude and I’ll figure it out.
Bobby: You are nine kinds of crazy, boy.
Dean: It’s been said.

Dean: Where’d you serve?
Guy: Fallujah – two tours. Got back a little over a year ago. Takes one to know one. Where’d you serve?
Dean: Hell.
Guy: No, seriously.
Dean: Seriously. Hell.

Dean: We’re humans. When we really want something, we lie.
Castiel: Why?
Dean: Because–that’s how you become president.

Dean: [while killing a vampire] Eat it, Twilight!

Dean: You don’t stop being a soldier ’cause you got wounded in battle. No matter what shape you’re in, bottom line is you’re family. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but me and Sam, we don’t have much left. I can’t do this without you. I can’t. So don’t you dare think about checking out. I don’t wanna hear that again.
Bobby: Now have we done feeling our feelings? Because I’d like to get out of this room before we both start growing lady parts.

Meg: Your call. You can make this easy or you can make it really, really hard.
Dean: When have you known us to ever make anything easy?

Ash: You boys die more than anyone I have ever met.

Sam: No drinking, no gambling, no pre-marital sex. Dean, they basically just outlawed 90% of your personality.

Sam: Are you going to do something stupid?
Dean: Like what?
Sam: Like Michael stupid.

Bobby: What the hell happened to you?
Dean: Reality happened. Nuclear is the only option we have left. Michael can ice the Devil, save a boatload of people.

Sam: What the hell happened to him?
Castiel: [carrying bloodied, unconscious Dean] Me.

Dean: Please be tomato soup, please be tomato soup. (finds eyeballs in the soup) Motel Hell.

Sam: By the way, next time I say „let’s keep driving,“ uh… let’s keep driving!

Bobby: The world’s gonna end. Seems stupid to get all precious over one little soul.

Dean: You sold your soul?
Crowley: More like pawned it. I fully intend to give it back.
Dean: Well then give it back!
Crowley: I will.
Dean: Now!
Sam: Did you kiss him?
Dean: Sam!
Sam: Just wondering.
Bobby: [awkward silence] No!
Crowley: [coughs, shows photo of him and Bobby kissing on his iPhone]
Bobby: Why’d you take a picture?
Crowley: Why’d you have to use tongue?

Sparrow: Your brother was abducted?
Sam: Yeah.
Sparrow: Oh my God!
Sam: It’s fine. I mean, I’ve had time to adjust.
Sparrow: Did it happen when you were kids?
Sam: No, like half an hour ago.

Dean: Yes, you sit in the dark and you feel the loss.
Sam: Absolutely, but couldn’t I just do all that and have sex with the hippie chick?
Dean: NO!
Sam: It would be in the dark.

Crowley: Is that Bobby Singer? Give him a kiss for me.

Sam: Well, I gotta tell you, Lucky, you got us stumped. I mean, why shack up with a family? Is it a kinky thing? Do you like to play with your food? Roll over, Lucky. Speak!
Lucky: Go to hell.
Sam: Already been. Didn’t agree with me.

Dean: What, you think there’s a clinic out there for people who just pop out of hell wrong?

Samuel: This Castiel? (to Castiel) You’re scrawnier than I pictured.
Castiel: This is a vessel. My true form is approximately the size of your Chrysler Building.
Dean: Alright, alright, quit bragging.

Bobby: Did you know my first girlfriend turned out to be a –
Dean: No! (hangs up the phone) No, uh-uh, uh-uh.

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