Sweets: You know, a sane person would regret murdering someone more than being taken in by a line of crap.
Zack: Define crap.
Sweets: Drivel, blarney, nonsense, uh, balderdash, twaddle, bull, bunkum, hooey. Like that.
Zack: Now I realize it was drivel-blarney-nonsense-balderdash-twaddle-bull-bunkum-hooey. Then I perceived it as logic.
Angela: These are children's shoes, but they're a size 11.
Cam: So you think our victim was a giant toddler?
Brennan: No, that would show up in the bones.
Cam: Sarcasm does not play well on the forensic platform.
Hodgins: I found coffee grounds and sea kelp in the treads of the vic's shoes.
Cam: So before our giant toddler was killed, he was brewing coffee on the seashore?
Hodgins: Yes, that's it precisely. Case closed.
Sweets: But you didn't plunge a knife into the man's chest?
Zack: It wasn't me.
Sweets: Zack, why did you confess?
Zack: I would've done it. If the master had asked, I would've done it.
Sweets: No, no you don't know that. People have no idea if they're capable of ending a life until they're put in that situation. In all of our sessions, I've had question marks, because you, at heart, are not a killer.
Sweets: People with OCD repeat patterns, in their lives, in order to stave off psychological panic. Now if we ask which of Jared Addison's set patterns have recently been disrupted we may very well discover what got him killed.
Bones: No, we can't ask Jared Addison. He's dead.
Sweets: (to Booth) She is wicked literal.
Brennan: Do all boys keep their masturbatory aids in their shoes?
Zack: I'm King of the Looney Bin.
Hodgins: Yeah you are.
Zack: I haven't actually literally done it before you know?
Sweets: Had sex?
Zack: Ended someone's life. Why doesn't anyone ever believe I've had sex?