Dear God. What is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring.
The good news is that whilst all dogs go to Heaven, you’d be surprised how many pigs are waiting for you in Hell.
Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up in you.
Well, I know your secret too. Better hope I don’t talk in my sleep.
All right, look if you absolutely have to tell her the truth, at least wait until the timing’s right. And that’s what deathbeds are for.
Well, then… welcome to the end times.[Crowley: We’re doomed.]
Oh, that’ll be the Jeffrey Archer books, I’m afraid.[Sandalphon: Something smells… evil.]
I have bad nose. When you ribbed the bonk, there was a wetness. He has drawn poctures of the sispocts.[reporting a complication with the robbery]
As long as we’re digging up the past, we may as well dig up your mother.
Trickle-down economics may stink, but trickle-down support smells like pizza, roses and, I assume, Viola Davis.
If that’s a joke, I love it. If not, I cannot wait to unpack that with you.[Rebecca Welton: Ms. Welton’s my father.]
What about the dead guy?[Christopher Moltisanti]You keep prodding him with a stick. You light a candle to Saint Anthony. But I think you’re f***ed.[Tony Soprano]
