CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

Sara (going through stomach contents): What's this look like, Greg? Greg: Uh, Caesar salad. Oh, and Pele used an interesting dressing. PCP. Sara: Angel dust. Hallucinogen. Greg: Well, it acts like one. But PCP's such a powerful drug it's in a class all its own: Disassociative anesthetic. Sara: Brain disassociates from the body. Greg: Yeah, after it takes you through the paces.

Catherine: Max, we found two sperm donors on the sample from your stepmother. Your father's and yours. Jeri Newman: Now I know why you were spending all that time at your father's.

Sara: Soccer bunnies? What are soccer bunnies? Det. Lockwood: Well, each cheerleader is assigned a soccer player. She's his bunny. Gives him gifts the night before the big game places his wake-up call. Sara: Sounds sexual. Det. Lockwood: Yeah, that's what I asked the principal but he said no. He said that, uh it's all good, clean fun. Gifts are inspirational videos like, uh, Rocky and wake-up calls are pep talks, nothing more. Sara: Yeah, well, I'm not sure the principal's up to speed on teenagers' sexual habits.

Brass (looking at a picture of the couple): Cal and Monica Newman. Owners of the house. My guess, second marriage. Catherine: 'Cause she's a babe and he's ... Brass: He's, uhm ... got a good sense of humor.

Augie Heitz: What are you talking about? I have done nothing wrong. Catherine: Oh, you're innocent in all this? Augie Heitz: I admit to having lust in my heart. Brass: Lust doesn't live in your heart. Catherine: I'm going to need that DNA sample. Augie Heitz: Well, my DNA is your DNA. Catherine: Great.

Sara: Died of exsanguination. David: Bled out. Trauma to her internal organs. Spleen, liver, heart they all sustained multiple mastications. Sara: Dog maybe? Teeth marks are too small for a mountain cat. David: They're human. Sara (looks disgusted): You're kidding.

Grissom: Gunshot, right temple. Women don't shoot themselves in the head, do they, Catherine? Catherine: Well, gunshots do a number of your face, so typically, women prefer pills. Brass: So what are we calling this, murder, suicide, what? Grissom: Is the husband around? Brass: No. Catherine: Well, you do the math: Dead female spouse plus missing husband ... equals murder.

Nicole (crying): I felt like it was a really bad dream. Sara: Nicole, I was at Mandy's autopsy. It was not a dream.

Grissom: Greg! Greg: Yeah. Grissom: Take off your shoes and socks. Greg: See, now we're getting into this whole strip forensics thing and I'm not too sure I can hang with that - even if you are my boss. Grissom: Your mother's maiden name was Hojem? Hojem is Norwegian, right? Greg: That's right and you know my grandfather was tossed from Norway for getting my grandmother pregnant before they got married. To this day he still tells me "Som man reder sa ligger man". (long pause) One must lie in the bed one has made.

Sara (to Grissom): It's just, um ... you tell me to get a life and then I get one, and then you expect me to be there at a moment's notice. It's ... um ... confusing.

Greg: What did you do to me? Grissom: You had a reaction. Greg: I'm Hazmat meat. Quarantine, here I come. (Greg pulls off the socks and puts both his feet up on Grissom's desk. Grissom examines Greg's right foot) Grissom: Your right foot, I swabbed with a placebo, regular tap water. Greg: Yeah, well, I'm not worried about the right foot. Grissom: Left foot...eumycotic dermatitis. Greg: Oh, great. It's probably fatal. Grissom: It's a mildew-induced skin rash. Greg: You infected me with mildew? Grissom: Here. Hydrocortisone. Follow the directions, clear it right up.

Greg: Normally I don't like to speak ill of the dead but, uh, Mr. Newman's sperm had company. Bad company. Greg: Look at D-7. Three alleles. Grissom: Genetics only gives you one from each parent. Greg: Which can only mean one thing -- menage d'allele.

Brass: What is that, some kind of filter? Grissom: It's an anti-vortex filter. Brass: Hey, I'm from Jersey, we swim at the shore.

Nick: I mean, I don't get it. She's not even slated to work. She comes in on her day off and she gets to work solo. Warrick: You still harping on the solo thing? You know every time you work with me you learn something. Nick (laughs): Is that right? Warrick: Yes.

Grissom: Red dye number three. Nick: Hummingbirds do love the color red. Warrick: You've been watching way too much Discovery Channel. (to Grissom about Nick) This guy needs a girl.

Warrick (to Nick): Hey don't get your panties in a bunch.

(watching an attractive girl undress in a video) Nick: Blam! Archie: You can say that again. Nick: Blam! Catherine: Down, boys.

Sara: Cyrus, next time someone says experimenting with drugs is harmless, remind me of this.

Dr. Robbins: I'll know more later. Grissom: You always tell me that. Dr. Robbins: Yes, I do.

Nick: You can not be serious! Warrick: Hey! John McEnroe. Where's the game?

Det. Lockwood: Did you eat dinner yet? Sara: Yeah, why? Det. Lockwood: You may be seeing it again.

Catherine: The thing about murder for hire, there's always a paper trail.

Grissom: I paged you two hours ago. Sara: Right. Uh, it's my day off. I was up in Pahrump at some vineyard. You told me to get a life, remember? Grissom: Did I? (pauses) I'm sorry, but I needed you. Dispatch called in a 419 at Tuscadero High School. You're on your own. Sara: On my own? Grissom: Solo. (he goes back to collecting evidence, Sara glares at him not pleased) Sara: See you around. Nick: Solo? (Sara shrugs and walks away) So does this mean when I come in on my day off I get to work solo? Grissom: Process.