CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

Grissom: You never get a second chance to make a first impression. Sara: A square of nine dots on paper and you can only draw four lines to connect them... without the pen ever leaving the paper. Grissom: Right. Think outside the box.

Grissom: Mr. Renteria, your apartment walls are covered in human blood. Are you aware of that? Clifford Renteria: Yeah. Grissom: Do you have an explanation? Clifford Renteria: It's my blood. Grissom: Your blood? Brass: You got a stigmata? Clifford Renteria: No. I get nosebleeds.

Detective O'Riley: Hey. I don't even know where to start with this one. Take a look at that. A scuba diver... up a tree. Nick: Wow. Catherine: How the hell he'd get up there?

Grissom: For all we know, this is animal blood. Brass: Yeah, sure. Deer, sheep, llama. Grissom: A deer hunter comes home from the mountains drunk decides to play butcher clean his kill. Chops his game up into oven-sized pieces for the winter. I mean, what does he care? He's renting.

Catherine: Hey, coffee boy. Where's my DNA? Cigarette butt? Match book time-delay device? Hair spray? Any of this sound familiar? Greg: Bags under the eyes, coffee cups, stress face. Any of this look familiar? I'm working on it. Catherine: Did Grissom put his stuff in front of mine?

Nick: Rocket man. Catherine: Yeah. Got to love this job.

Catherine: Well, they only get us something if they match Walden's ninja coffee table.

Grissom: Yeah, well... as it turns out our guy stands very close to the wall and blows almost sideways. Warrick: This is unreal. You actually saw him do this? Grissom: Right through his Jimmy Durante. Ambidextrous, both nostrils. Sara: Great. Our big murder is a nosebleed.

Sara: What are we looking for exactly? Grissom: Same thing we're always looking for; evidence to a crime scene.

(Seeing a bug at a crime scene) Grissom: Dermastidae masculatus. (Suspect looks confused) Sara: That's Latin for "You're hiding a dead body."

(Catherine is walking by DNA) Greg: Hey! Yo, Cat! Catherine (she walks into DNA): I'm going to forget you called me that. Greg: Sorry.

Grissom: Two things that have nothing to do with each other. Sara: Or everything.

(Sara walks out to find Grissom pacing furiously) Sara: You okay? Grissom: Ninety-five. Sara: Excuse me? Grissom: Normally my pulse is seventy, when it gets up to ninety-five, I realize just how mad I am. I- I have ten people working around the clock on this thing. Sara: You're too hard on yourself. Grissom: No, no. I'm not mad at me. There's a body in there and that guy knows where it is! Sara: So what's your pulse at now? You wanna... take a walk around the block? Get some air. Grissom: No. Sara: Clear your head. Grissom: I'm fine. Sara: Okay. (touches his cheek, he looks surprised) Chalk... from plaster. Grissom (rubs his face): Oh. Sara: Better go wash up.

Catherine: So I suppose you believe in Santa Claus? Nick: After this... oh yeah.