Harry: Some things come a lot easier to other people than they do to me. For example, money. I mean, spending it has never been a problem. Figuring out how to make it, well, always been the mystery.
Jim Brennan: What is the sacred rule? Come on, come on, anybody. Harvey.
Jim Brennan: Harvey. Yeah. The uh, the sacred rule?
Harry: Oh. Uh... Keep your mouth shut.
Jim Brennan: Harvey is right.
Harry: Harry's right.
Jim Brennan: Harry? Who the hell is Harry?
Liz Fontaine: Dresden. It's about your tuition. Your last two promises of payment have come and gone. You're going to have to leave the class.
Harry: I just got an A.
Liz Fontaine: Not in accounting.
Harry: If I had a dollar for every time I've tripped over a body, had a gun pulled on me and watched Murphy kick for clues, I'd have more than enough money to pay for Brennan's P.I. class.
Murphy: She wants you arrested on suspicion of murder.
Harry: Yeah, I deduced that… you know, almost being a graduate of Brennan's class and all.
Harry: So you're ruling out a disgruntled client or a vengeful cuckold?
Murphy: I'm not ruling out anything... did you just say "cuckold"?
Murphy: Okay, Fontaine served time for embezzlement and fraud. She's been straight for five years, clean and sober for four. So she says.
Harry: Okay, so if she pulled a gun on me, being a convicted felon, that'd be a problem, right?
Murphy: Did she pull a gun on you?
Harry: No. Of course not. Just want to get my gun/felon rules straight, that's all.
Harry: "Bring peace if you can." That's what he said. Brennan was a good guy. Not good with names, but he didn't treat me like I'd crawled out from underneath some rock.
Bob: And the comely assistant with the rap sheet... she doesn't factor into this at all?
Harry: Well, yeah, she thinks I killed the guy. I'd like to correct that impression.
Bob: Um-hum. And how are her legs?
Bob: I rest my case.
Harry: I'm a good dick. Bad dick. Whatever you want. Huh?
Liz Fontaine: You could be bad dick.
Liz Fontaine: You know what, Harvey? You can just get out of the car! (climbs into Harry's car)
Harry: Hey. That's my car.
Liz Fontaine: Yeah, well, I'm driving.
Liz Fontaine: Well, whatever. Look, trust me on this. (Harry looks unconvinced) It's a woman's intuition (Harry still unconvinced) Okay, I'll make a deal with you. If Felicity Jones isn't throwing her milkshake in the yard...
Liz Fontaine: ...I'll be happy to move on to one of your brilliant ideas.
Liz Fontaine: Yeah?
Harry: Just one thing...
Liz Fontaine: What?
Harry: My name... isn't Harvey.
Liz Fontaine: It isn't?
Liz Fontaine: What is it?
Harry: You're the detective...
Harry: Well, two hours and forty minutes, eleven clothing stores browsed, and one purchase of trashy lingerie.
Liz Fontaine: Bet that made your day.
Harry: Nah. It's not my style.
Harry: You know, I'll finish this off. It's fine.
Liz Fontaine: It's a fertility clinic. You go in there alone, you're gonna look even more freakish than you do right now. You gonna tell them you want to get pregnant?
Dr. Overland: Mr. Fairburn, we'll get your prior records sent over but, in the meantime, let's get a current sample and see what's what. (gives Harry a specimen jar)
Liz Fontaine: Get cracking.
Harry: When I cross a ley line, I can feel it in my bones. And my bones were telling me the trouble I was looking for was dead ahead.
Liz Fontaine: Well, I did some, um, research on Dr. Overland and his, uh, little den of iniquity.
Harry: Yeah? What did you find out?
Liz Fontaine: Let's talk about you first.
Liz Fontaine: Your real name is Harry and you, uh, you claim to be a wizard?
Harry: Yeah, guilty. Got the pictures?
Liz Fontaine: What does that mean?
Harry: You know, it means "wizard."
Liz Fontaine: Wizard at what? Math? Cooking? I mean, we get all kinds of kooks in PI class but you're a first.
Harry: Life, huh? Those are the pictures, right?
Liz Fontaine: You're changing the subject.
Harry: I'm trying to.
Liz Fontaine: How did you know we had to investigate that?
Harry: I was just poking around.
Liz Fontaine: Yeah. You're not a wizard at lying, are you?
Liz Fontaine: Who are you? Who is he?
Harry: That is the, uh, tea expert.
Liz Fontaine: Ah.
Harry: Bob...Liz. Liz...Bob.
Harry: With all due respect, it is time for you to drop the case and just... just stay safe.
Liz Fontaine: Safe?! There's no such thing as safe! Okay, there's alive, and there's dead. And anything in between is just dumb luck.
Bob: It's a doorway for incubae. Sexual tormenters who prey upon women. Seducing them,d riving them mad with lust and desire. A deviant unbridled cornucopia of...of... carnal delight.
Harry: In a fertility clinic? Come on.
Bob: For an incubus, I can think of no better playground. Think of it. Desperate women yearning for fertile seed. Reproductive organs. Naked...
Harry: Bob! Whoa whoa whoa whoa.
Harry: Just tell me... what did you find out about Overland?
Liz Fontaine: Oh. He had his license to practice medicine revoked by the state of California. Do you know how bad you have to be for California to shut you down?
Harry: So, was Dr Overland an incubus? The fox in a hen house? It was time to take a little late night snoop around the chicken coop.
Liz Fontaine: Hey.
Liz Fontaine: Do you have a spare hockey stick for me?
Liz Fontaine: Well, this'll have to do instead. (draws a gun)
Harry: You could get in serious trouble carrying that thing.
Liz Fontaine: Thanks, mom!
Harry: Hey, listen. If we do run into Overland, you gotta let me do the talking, okay?
Liz Fontaine: Why?
Harry: Let's just say he has a way with women, all right?
Liz Fontaine: Blind, drunk women maybe...
Murphy: Why am I not arresting you for breaking and entering?
Harry: Well, nothing's been broken and there are no posted hours, so...
Murphy: You did the lock thing.
Liz Fontaine: You should have seen him earlier when he did the hockey stick thing!
Murphy: Got a fanclub.
Liz Fontaine: You know, why don’t you skip on back to La Traviata and let us handle it from here?
Murphy: You’re gone.
Liz Fontaine: Fine.
Murphy: She’s your problem, Dresden. You keep her off this and away from me.
Liz Fontaine: You know, it is a free country.
Murphy: Not if you’re in jail. But then you know that already, don’t you?
Liz Fontaine: Let’s go, Harry.
Murphy: Go on, Harry, before she takes another yank at your leash.
Harry: Can you just be nice?
Murphy: No. Go home so I know where to find you if I have any questions.
Liz Fontaine: I want a beer. You got a beer?
Harry: What? I thought you were...
Liz Fontaine: I’m on the wagon! I can still want a beer. I’m just not gonna drink it.
Harry: Okay, so what do you want me to do, just put it right--right next to you?
Liz Fontaine: Not unless you want me to drink it.
Liz Fontaine: I don't think I understand what happened here. Do I want to?
Liz Fontaine: It's a pretty tough job if I can't use a gun. You sure you can't spare one of those killer hockey sticks?
Harry: Yeah, I'm positive.