Castiel: You know, I’ve been here for a very long time. And I remember many things. I remember being at a shoreline. Watching a little gray fish heave itself up on the beach, and an older brother saying, “Don’t step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish.” I remember the Tower of Babel, all 37’ feet of it. Which I suppose was impressive at the time. And when it fell, they howled divine wrath. But come on., dried dung can only be stacked so high. I remember Cain and Abel. David and Goliath, Sodom and Gomorrah. And of course, I remember the most remarkable event—remarkable because it never came to pass. It was averted by two boys, an old drunk, and a fallen angel. The grand story. And we ripped up the ending, and the rules, and destiny, leaving nothing but freedom and choice. Which is all well and good, except... well, what if I’ve made the wrong choice? How am I supposed to know? I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story. Let me tell you everything.
(Crowley tortures a vampire)
Crowley: Chocula here feels every tickle.
Castiel: What is that good for?
Crowley: Apart from the obvious erotic value, you got me.
Castiel: Don't worry about them.
Crowley: Don't worry about... what, like Lucifer didn't worry? Or Michael, or Lilith, or Alistair, or Azazel didn't worry? Am I the only game piece on the board who doesn't underestimate those denim-wrapped nightmares?!?
Bobby Singer: Gotta tell you, Redd, for a filthy lower-than-snake-spit hellspawn, you seemed to turn yourself into a damned fine hunter. I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you.
Sam: Look, Dean, he's our friend, too, okay? And I'd die for him, I would. But... I'm praying we're wrong here.
Bobby Singer: But if we ain't, if there's a snowball of a snowball's chance here, that means we're dealing with a Superman who's gone dark side. Which means we gotta be cautious, we gotta be smart, and maybe stock up on some kryptonite.
Dean: (looks at Sam) This makes you Lois Lane.
Castiel: After supposedly saving Sam, I finally returned to Heaven. Of course, there isn't one Heaven. Each soul generates its own Paradise. I favor the eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who died in a bathtub in 1953.
Rachel: What does God want?
Castiel: God wants you to have freedom.
Rachel: What does he want us to do with it?
Castiel: (voiceover) if I knew then what I know now, I might have said, "It's simple. Freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it."
Castiel: Those first weeks back in Heaven were surprisingly difficult. Explaining freedom to angels is a bit like teaching poetry to fish.
Castiel: Whose Heaven is this?
Raphael: Ken Lay's. I'm borrowing it.
Castiel: I still question his admittance here.
Raphael: He's devout. Trumps everything.
Raphael: You'll kneel before me and pledge allegiance to the flag, all right?
Castiel: And what flag is that?
Raphael: Me, Castiel. Allegiance to me.
Castiel: Are you joking?
Raphael: Do I look like I'm joking?
Castiel: You never look like you're joking.
Castiel: Raphael, no. The Apocalypse doesn't have to be fought.
Raphael: Of course it does. It's God's will.
Castiel: How can you say that?
Raphael: Cause it's what I want.
Crowley: It all comes down to the souls in the end, doesn't it?
Castiel: What in the hell are you talking about?
Crowley: I'm talking about Raphael's head on a pike, I'm talking about happy endings for all of us, with all possible entendres intended. Come on. Just a chat.
Castiel: I have no interest in talking with you.
Crowley: Why not? I'm very interesting.
Castiel: Where are we?
Crowley: You don't recognize it, do you? It's Hades. New and improved. Did it myself.
Castiel: This is Hell?
Crowley: Yeah. See, problem with the old place was, most of the residents were masochists already. A lot of, "Thank you, sir, can I have another hot spike up the jackson." But just look at them. No one like waiting in line.
Castiel: What happens when they reach the front?
Crowley: Nothing. They go right back to the end again. That's efficiency.
Crowley: What are you planning to do about Raphael?
Castiel: What can I do, besides submit or die?
Crowley: "Submit or die"? What are you, French?
Castiel: Raphael will kill us all. He'll turn the world into a graveyard. I had no choice.
Dean: No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one.
Crowley: It's always your friends, isn't it, in the end? We try to change, we try and improve ourselves. It's always our friends that got to claw into our sides and hold us back. You know what I see here? The new God, the new Devil, working together.
Castiel: Enough. You stop talking and get out of my sight.
Crowley: Well, glad I came. You're welcome, by the way. You know the difference between you and me? I know what I am. What are you, Castiel? What exactly are you willing to do?