Supernatural (season 3)

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Supernatural (2005–2020) is a paranormal/horror/thriller/drama-themed television series on the WB Television Network (now merged with UPN into the new network The CW) that details the lives of two brothers who travel across the country in a black 1967 Chevy Impala investigating paranormal events and other unexplained occurrences.  Season three originally aired from 4 October 2007 to 15 May 2008.

Season  123456789101112131415Main
Bobby: So, where's your brother?
Sam: Polling the electorate.
Bobby: What?
Sam: Never mind.

Bobby: So, we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?
Dean: Well, sold my soul. Got a year to live. I ain't sweatin' the cholesterol.

Bobby: You sure this is the right place?
Dean: No. But I spent all day canvassing this stupid town with this guy's stupid mug, and supposedly he drinks at this stupid bar...

Dean: Well, you look like Hell warmed over.
Bobby: You try exorcising all night, see how you feel.
Sam: Any survivors, Bobby?
Bobby: Well, the pretty girl and the heavy guy... they'll make it. A lifetime of therapy bills ahead, but still...

Sam: You're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing... to me. What you did was selfish.
Dean: Yeah. You're right. Was selfish. But I'm okay with that.
Sam: I'm not.
Dean: Tough. After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled.
Sam: (trying to cover up his phone call) Oh, I was just ordering pizza.
Dean: Dude, you do realize that you're in a restaurant?
Sam: Yeah! Oh, yeah, yeah... (lamely) I just felt like pizza, y'know?
Dean: Okay... Weirdy McWeirderton.

Sam: So let me get this straight. You want to drive all the way to Cicero just to hook up with some random chick?
Dean: She was a yoga teacher. That was the bendiest weekend of my life!

Sam: Why are you following me?
Ruby: I'm interested in you.
Sam: Why?
Ruby: Because you're tall. I love a tall man!

Ben: No, don't go over there. Only bitches send a grown-up.
Dean: You're not wrong.
Ben: And I'm not a bitch.

Dean: Well, we'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn. That'll play great with the neighbors.
Dean: (reading from trophy) 1995.
Sam: No way. That's my Division Championship soccer trophy! I can't believe he kept this.
Dean: Yeah, it's probably the closest you ever came to being a boy. Oh, wow! It’s my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade.

Sam: I lost my shoe.

[Dean leads Sam into a motel room]
Sam: What am I even supposed to do, Dean?
Dean: Nothing, nothing! Come here. I don't want you doing... anything! I want you to sit right here, and don't move! Okay? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light, don't even scratch your nose!
Sam: [mouthing the words] Scratch my nose? [checks to see that Dean has left, then scratches his nose]

Dean: So you're only out for yourself, huh? It's all about number one?
Bela: Being a hunter is so much more noble? A bunch of obsessed, revenge-driven sociopaths trying to save a world that can't be saved?
Dean: Well, aren't you a glass half-full?
Bela: We're all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride.

Bela: [training a gun on Sam and Dean] Put the foot down, honey!
Dean: No. You're not gonna shoot anybody. See, I happen to be able to read people. Okay, you're a thief, fine, but you're not...[Bela shoots Sam] Son of a--!
Bela: Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move, and I'll pull the trigger. You've got the luck, Dean. You, I can't hit. But your brother? [aims the gun at him again] Him, I can't miss.
Dean: What the hell is wrong with you?! You can't just go around shooting people like that!
Bela: Relax, it's just a shoulder hit! I can aim!

Dean: Oh! Forgot, we're up $46,000! I almost forgot about the.... [his pockets are empty] ....scratch tickets.
[Bela drives off and honks, she has the tickets]
Bela: [looking at the winning tickets] (chuckle)

Sin City [3.04]

Sam: No offense, but what are you doing here, Father?
Father Gil: Like it or not, you go where your flock is.
Casey: Plus, the clergy drinks for free.

Ruby: Cute piece.
Bobby: Who are you?
Ruby: Won't stop a demon, if that's what you think.
Bobby: How the hell would you know?
Ruby: Oh, I don't know...[blackens her eyes] Call it an educated guess.
Bobby: Well, ain't I lucky then? Found a subject for a test fire.
[Bobby raises the Colt]
Ruby:[laughs] Luck had nothing to do with it. But hey, by all means, take your best shot. [Bobby hesitates, Ruby becomes impatient] Ugh...are you gonna stand there like a pantywaist? Or are you gonna shoot-! [Bobby shoots her, she looks down at the wound, then looks back at Bobby] Ouch. This smarts a little.
Bobby: What do you want?
Ruby: Peace on earth, a new shirt. Now, do you want me to help you out with that gun, or not, hm?

Hooker: Here's what I'm going to do. Normally I charge four hundred a night. Why don't we call it an even deuce, and get the hell out of here?
Dean: What do I look like?
Hooker: What do I look like? Cheapskate.
Casey: [laughs] Did I just see you strike out with a prostitute? How's that work?

Dean: [trying an exorcism from memory] Spiritus emundi, undalara, persona tote... [trails off, lost]
Casey: Nice try, but I think you just ordered a pizza. Guess you should have paid more attention in Latin class.
Dean: I don't know what you're smiling about, you're not going anywhere.
Casey: And, apparently, neither are you.
Dean: Yeah, but I got somebody coming for me and, uh, he did pay attention in class.
Casey: Oh, right - Sam. Everyone say's he's the brains of the outfit.
Dean: Everyone?
Casey: Sure. You Winchester boys are famous. Not Lohan famous, but you know.

Casey: Hey, I didn't pull any triggers.
Dean: Yeah? You did something.
Casey: You want to know what I did -- what I really did? I had lunch.
Dean: Lunch?
Casey: Me and Trotter. He had a cheeseburger, I had a salad, and I just pointed out the money that could be made with a few businesses that cater to harmless vice. So Trotter built it, and, man, did they come. Supposedly God-fearing folk, waist-deep in booze, sex, gambling. I barely lifted a finger.
Dean: That's it?
Casey: You don't get it. All you've got to do is nudge humans in the right direction. Some whiskey here, a hooker there, and they'll walk right into Hell with big, fat smiles on their faces. Your kind is corrupt, Dean. Weak. Our will's stronger. That's why we'll win.
Dean: And that's how it ends?
Casey: No. That's how it begins.
Kyle: This guy, he killed my brothers. How would you feel?
Sam: Can't imagine anything worse.

Sam: Then we've got the three brothers, arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big, Bad Wolf.
Dean: The Three Little Pigs.
Sam: Yeah.
Dean: Actually, those guys were a little chubby. Oh wait, I thought all those things ended with, uh, everyone living happily ever after.
Sam: No, no, not the originals. See, the Grimm Brothers stuff was kind of like the.. the folklore of its day, full of sex, violence, cannibalism. Now, it got sanitized over the years and turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories.
Dean: So, you think the murders are what, a reenactment? That's a little crazy.
Sam: Crazy as what? Every day of our lives?
Dean: Touché.

Sam: [staring at frog on the road] Yeah, you're right, that's completely normal.
Dean: All right, maybe it is fairy tales. Totally messed-up fairy tales. I'll tell you one thing, there's no way I'm kissing a damned frog.
Sam: [gesturing to pumpkin on porch] Hey, check that out.
Dean: Yeah? It's close to Halloween.
Sam: Remember Cinderella? The pumpkin that turns into a coach and the mice that become horses?
Dean: Dude, could you be more gay? Don't answer that.

Sam: I think it's Snow White.
Dean: Snow White? Ah, I saw that movie. Or, the porn version anyways. There was this wicked Stepmother. [hoots] She was wicked.

Dean: You know what he said. Some good advice.
Sam: Is that what you want me to do, Dean? Just let you go?
Dean: What a crazy old broad.
Sam: Why, because she believes in ghosts?
Dean: Ha ha, look at you. Sticking up for your girlfriend, you cougar hound.
Sam: Bite me.
Dean: Hey, not if she bites you first.

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

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

Dean: Hey, Bela, how'd you get like this? Huh? What, your daddy not give you enough hugs or something?
Bela: I don't know. Your daddy give you enough? Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're no better than I am.
Dean: We help people.
Bela: [scoffs] Come on! You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. [Dean looks over to Sam] Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job, and I do it. So you tell me, which is healthier?
Sam: Bela, why don't you just leave? We've got work to do.
Bela: Yeah. You're "o" for two. Bang up job so far.

Bela: You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex.
Dean: (after thinking hard) Don't objectify me.
Gordon: Sam Winchester's the Antichrist.
Bela: Ooh. I'd heard something about that...
Gordon: It's true.
Bela: ...from my good friend, the Easter Bunny. Who'd heard it from the Tooth Fairy. Are you off your meds?

Bela: You make me an offer and I think you'll find me highly cooperative.
Gordon: Okay, how about you tell me where they are, or I kill you right now?

Sam: That vampire's still out there, Dean.
Dean: First things first.
Sam: Gordon.
Dean: About that, when we find him, or if he finds us.
Sam: Yeah?
Dean: Well I'm just saying, he's not leaving us a whole lot of options.
Sam: Yeah, I know. We've gotta kill him.
Dean: Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like, "No, we can't, he's a human, it's wrong."
Sam: No I'm done. I mean Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead. Or 'til he is.

Sam: You know what, man? I'm sick and tired of your old stupid kamikaze trick.
Dean: Whoa, whoa, kamikaze? I'm more like a ninja.
Sam: That's not funny.
Dean: It's a little funny.
Sam: No, it's not.
Dean: What do you want me to do, Sam, huh? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm going to die? You know what, I've got one. [picks up notepad] Let's see, what rhymes with, "Shut up, Sam"?
Sam: Dude. [knocks the notepad out of Dean's hand] Drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punchline. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.
Dean: I'm not!
Sam: You're lying. And you may as well drop it cause I can see right through you.
Dean: You've got no idea what you're talking about.
Sam: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.
Dean: And how do you know that?
Sam: Because I know you!
Dean: Really?
Sam: Yeah, because I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean! Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So, yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this... is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just...
Dean: What?
Sam: It's just, I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... just 'cause.

Gordon: I got to hand it to you Sam, you've got a lot of people fooled, but see, I know the truth. I know what it's like. We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gonna, as soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds. Killing you and killing myself.
Dean: So was I right? Was it the serial killing chimney-sweep?
Sam: Yep. It's uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke.
Dean: Who?
Sam: Mary Poppins.
Dean: Who's that?
Sam: Oh, come on. Never mind.

Sam: I mean, I'm just saying, that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture. You've got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter, whatever you want to call it there's all sorts of lore.
Dean: Saying what?
Sam: Saying back in the day, Santa' brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas-time, but instead of bringing presents he punishes the wicked.
Dean: By hauling their asses up chimneys.
Sam: For starters, yeah.
Dean: So this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?

Dean: What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases.
Sam: Whose childhood are you talking about?
Dean: Oh, come on, Sam.
Sam: No, just... no.
Dean: All right, Grinch.

Dean: Christmas is Jesus' birthday.
Sam: No, Jesus' birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the Winter Solstice Festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed Christmas. But I mean the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit, that's all remnants of Pagan worship.
Dean: How do you know that? What're you gonna tell me next? The Easter Bunny's Jewish?

Madge Carrigan: This might pinch a bit, dear. [cuts Dean's arm]
Dean: Ah! You bitch!
Madge: Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar. Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? "Fudge."
Dean: I'll try and remember that.

Dean: Aw, you fudgin' touch me again, I'll FUDGIN' KILL YA!
Madge: Better!
Dean: I hate witches. They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere.
Sam: Pretty much.
Dean: It's creepy. Hell, it's downright unsanitary!

Dean: They killed the nut job. Should we, uh, thank them or what?
Sam: They're working black magic, too, Dean. They need to be stopped.
Dean: Stopped like, stopped? They're human, Sam.
Sam: They're murderers.
Dean: Burn, witch, burn.

Sam: It's not so simple. We're not, we're not just hunting anymore. We're at war.
Dean: Are you feeling okay?
Sam: [sighs] Why are you always asking me that?
Dean: 'Cause you're taking advice from a demon, for starters. And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people. You know, it used to eat you up inside.
Sam: Yeah, and what has that gotten me?
Dean: Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the friggin' car, and friggin' argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap.
Sam: Wait, so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you?
Dean: No, I'm not mad, I'm-I'm... I'm worried, Sam. I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself.
Sam: Yeah you're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice?
Dean: What is that supposed to mean?
Sam: Look, Dean, you're leaving, right? And I got to stay here in this crap-hole of a world... alone. So, the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change.
Dean: Change into what?
Sam: Into you. I gotta be more like you.

Dean: So let me get this straight. You were human once. You died, you went to Hell, and you became a...
Ruby: Yeah.
Dean: How long ago?
Ruby: Back when the plague was big.
Dean: So all of them? What, every damn demon, they were all human once?
Ruby: Every one I've ever met.
Dean: Well they sure don't act like it.
Ruby: Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is. Forgetting what you are.

Ruby: The answer is, "Yes," by the way.
Dean: Sorry?
Ruby: Yes, same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later, Hell will burn away your humanity. Every hell-bound soul, every one, turns into something else. Turns you into us, so, yeah. Yeah, you can count on it.
Dean: There's no way of saving me from the Pit, is there?
Ruby: [sighs] No.
Dean: There you are. What are you doing?
Sam: Having a drink.
Dean: It's two in the afternoon. Drinking whiskey?
Sam: I drink whiskey all the time.
Dean: No, you don't.

Sam: But really, the thing is, no one can save you.
Dean: What I've been telling you.
Sam: No, that's not what I mean. I mean no one can save you because you don't want to be saved.

Sam: So, what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?
Dean: Unless he was taking an extremely lame vacation...

Nightmare Dean: What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car — that's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket — Dad's. Your music — Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look after your little brother, boy!" You can still hear your dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell.
Dean: Just shut up.
Nightmare Dean: I mean, think about it. All he ever did was train you, boss you around. But Sam, Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved.
Dean: I mean it. I'm getting angry.
Nightmare Dean: Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died! Why should you?
Dean: Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam, that was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family! He... He's the one who let Mom die, who wasn't there for Sam! I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me, and I don't deserve to go to Hell! [shoots the Nightmare version]
Nightmare Dean: [with black, demon eyes] You can't escape me, Dean! You're gonna die, and this... this is what you're gonna become!

Dean: Sam?
Sam: Yeah?
Dean: I've been doing some thinking. And, well, the thing is... I don't wanna die. I don't wanna go to Hell.
Sam: Alright, yeah. We'll find a way to save you.
Dean: Okay, good.
(Heat of The Moment is playing on the alarm as Sam sits up.)
Dean: Rise and shine, Sammy!
Sam: Dude, Asia?
Dean: Aw, you love this song and you know it.
Sam: Yeah, and if I ever hear it again, I'm gonna kill myself.

Sam: He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee black. Nothing for me, thanks.
Waitress: You got it.
Dean: Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that.

Sam: Yesterday was tuesday right? But today's tuesday too.

[After Sam tells Dean he got hit by a car the day before]
Dean: Did it look cool, like in the movies?
Sam: You peed yourself.
Dean: Of course, I peed myself. Man gets hits by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!

Sam: My point is, I've lived through every possible Tuesday. I've watched you die every possible way. I have ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried everything I know to save your life, and I can't. No matter what I do, you die. And then I wake up. And then it's Tuesday again.

Trickster: Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of yours.
Sam: Lesson, what lesson?
Trickster: This obsession to save Dean. The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other. Nothing good comes out of us, just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. The bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes, you just gotta let people go.
Henriksen: You know what I'm trying to decide?
Dean: I don't know. What? Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition?

Henriksen: I've got a lot to celebrate, I mean, after all. Seeing you two in chains?
Dean: You kinky son of a bitch. We don't swing that way!

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.

Henriksen: Shotgun shells full of salt.
Dean: Whatever works.
Henriksen: Fightin' off monsters with condiments. So, turns out demons are real.
Dean: FYI, ghosts are real too. So are werewolves, vampires, changelings, evil clowns that eat people.
Henriksen: Okay, then.
Dean: Makes you feel better, Big Foot's a hoax.
Henriksen: It doesn't.

Henriksen: What's out there? Can you guys beat it? Can you win?
Dean: [considers his answer] Honestly? I think the world's gonna end bloody. But it doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin'. :[smiles]
Henriksen: Plus, you've got nothin' to go home to but your brother.
Dean: Yeah.
Ed: We know you've had it hard during the crippling writer's strike.
Harry: Lazy fat cats!
Ed: Who needs writers when you've got guys like us?

Harry: [to Sam and Dean] Who made you guys recurring guest stars?

Dean: Crap. Crap. Taxidermy, 'kay. You said Daggett was a hospital janitor?
Sam: Yeah.
Dean: Eww. We got three toe tags here. One, death by gunshots, train accident, and suicide.
Sam: Eww.
Harry: What?
Sam: Well that explains why all the death echoes are here.
[Ed and Harry look confused]
Sam: They're here because their bodies are here... Somewhere in the house.
[Ed and Harry still look confused]
Dean: Daggett brought the remains home from the morgue to "play".
Ed and Harry together: [After a pause] Eww!
Spruce: Oh, that's nasty, dude.

Dean: 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!

Ed: And here we were thinking that, you know, we were teaching you. And all this time you were teaching us about heart and about dedication and about how gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day.
Dean: I just talked to an 84-year-old grandmother who's having phone sex with her husband. Who died in Korea.
Sam: Ugh.
Dean: Completely rocked my understanding of the word necrophilia.

Sam: [about a demon] And it's following you because...?
Dean: I guess I'm big game, you know? My ass is too sweet to let out of sight.

Sam: Dean, it's not Dad.
Dean: Then what is it?
Sam: A Crocotta.
Dean: Is that a sandwich?

Crocotta: [Talking about the technology we have nowadays] You're all so connected... But you've never been so alone.

Dean: The only person who can get me out of this thing is me.
Sam: And me.
Dean: "And me"?
Sam: What?
Dean: Deep revelation, having a real moment here. That's what you come back with? "And me"?
Sam: Do you want a poem?
Dean: Moment's gone. Unbelievable.
Dean: I mean, obviously, I wanna hunt some zombies.

Coroner: So, you're cops and morons.
Dean: Excuse me? No, no. We're very smart!

Coroner: Didn't you read my report?
Dean: Of course, we did. Oh, it was-it was riveting, a real page-turner. Just delightful.
Coroner: You done?
Dean: I think so.
Coroner: Please, go away.
Dean: Okay.

Rufus: You do her ear?
Dean: Hey man, I'll try anything once, but I don't know, that sounds uncomfortable.

Dean: Hiya, Bela. Here's a fun fact you may not know: I felt your hand in my pocket when you swiped that motel receipt.
Bela: You don't understand.
Dean: Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly. Y'see, I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Something tucked above the door, an herb. Devil's Shoestring. Well there's only one use for that. Holding Hellhounds at bay. So you know what I did? I went back and I took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died ten years ago, today. You didn't kill 'em. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn't you, Bela? And it's come due.
Crossroad Demon: [flashback, young Bela swinging, crying] I can take care of them for you. And it won't even cost you anything for ten whole years. [her eyes glow red]
Dean: Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal? Our gun for your soul?
Bela: Yes.
Dean: But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing.
Bela: They changed the deal. They wanted me to kill Sam.
Dean: [sarcastic] Really. Wow. Demons, untrustworthy. [chuckles] Shocker. That's, uh, kind of a tight deadline too, uh, what time is it? Oh, look at that! Almost midnight.
Bela: [crying] Dean, listen, I need help.
Dean: Sweetheart, we are weeks past help.
Bela: I know I don't deserve it.
Dean: You know what, you're right. You don't. But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help, we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you.
Bela: [still crying] I know, and saved yourself. I know about your deal, Dean.
Dean: And who told you that?
Bela: The demon that holds it. She holds mine, too. She says she holds every deal.
Dean: She?
Bela: Her name's Lilith.
Dean: ...Lilith? Why should I believe you?
Bela: You shouldn't, but it's the truth.
Dean: This can't help you, Bela. Not now. Why are you tellin' me this?
Bela: Because just maybe you can kill the bitch.
Dean: [long pause] I'll see you in Hell.
[Dean hangs up on her. Bela hangs up as the clock switches to 12:00 midnight. Hellhounds howl in the background. Bela stands to look out window, and there is a crash as the Hellhounds presumably attack and scene fades to black]
Dean: Why don't we just make a T.J. run. You know, some señoritas, cervezas, uh, we could, what's Spanish for "donkey show"?
Sam: So if we do save you... let's never do that.

Dean: Sammy, all I'm saying is that you're my weak spot. You are. And I'm yours.
Sam: You don't mean that. We're--we're family.
Dean: I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it, too.

Bobby: Where do you think you're going?
Dean: We've got the knife.
Bobby: And you intend to use it without me. Do I look like a ditchable prom-date to you?
Sam: No, Bobby. Of course not.
Dean: This is about me... and Sam. Okay? This isn't your fight.
Bobby: The hell it isn't! Family don't end with blood, boy!

Dean: If this is my last day on earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward.

Sam: I'm not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean!
Dean: Yes, you are! Yes, you are! I'm sorry! I mean this is all my fault. I know that. But what you're doing, it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill you.
Sam: Then what am I supposed to do?
Dean: Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you, okay? And remember what I taught you.


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