CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

Randy Bolen: Ten grand. Sofia: That's a lot of money for a guy like you. Randy Bolen: I've had worse nights. Sofia (chuckles): Yeah, I'm sure you have. You're having one now.

Catherine: So what's a guy dressed for a party, with a key to this hotel, doing out here? Grissom: I don't know. But the party's over.

David (after finding a stain on Jeffrey's boxers): Mom was right; always wear clean ones because you never know what could happen. What do you think that is? Warrick: Why don't you take a whiff? David: Why am I always the guy who has to sniff the shorts? Warrick: Because it's your job. David: You do it. Warrick (laughs and smells the shorts): Red wine.

Catherine: They probably thought that they just taught him a lesson. Grissom: They did: Don't confuse fantasy with reality. Greg: Well, hush money or not, you have to admit that whole fantasy night thing was a pretty cool gift from a very generous boss. (looks towards Grissom, who makes a face) Sara (smirking): Greg, don't you have a birthday coming up? Greg: Why, yes, Sara, I do. Catherine: I'm thinking, ear-shredding rock, a beautiful model, boatloads of sushi and...latex. Greg: Eh, that was last year. Grissom: I think fantasies are best kept private. (Grissom looks at Sara) (Nick comes in and they talk about the case a little) Nick: The biggest fantasy here in Vegas is that everything happens by chance. Nothing here happens by chance. The odds are set before you even walk off the plane. (leaves) Greg: You know, I'd settle for a birthday breakfast. Catherine: Now, that is a fantasy.

Sara: Please tell me there are something more to this guys and cars thing, besides the obvious penis extension metaphors. Greg: So you want me to lie?

(Archie stands up) Grissom: What are you doin'? Archie: I've been lookin' at video three days solid now. My butt fell asleep. (They review some more video tape and find something) Grissom: Well, call me Ishmael. Archie: Why? Grissom: You need to read more, Arch.

Caprice (to Grissom and Sara): Oh, and may all your dreams come true.

(Talking about pool cue chalk) Hodges: The abrasives give grip to the tip for when it hits the ball. Catherine: Stop tryin' to make that sound dirty. Our vic had a callus on his hand. Hodges: Mm... Catherine (cutting him off): Don't. Which means our vic was playin' alot of pool. Hodges: So where in this town do you go to shoot stick with a hot blonde and a Ferrari?

Catherine (reading website page): "Caprice unlimited. Anything is possible." (Cath picks up the phone) Sounds like a sex business. Sara: What are you gonna say? Catherine: Uh, something other than "A guy is dead and it looks like you're involved." (she gets a message machine) Not taking calls.

Greg: Mick Sheridan the movie producer? I grew up watchin' his action blockbusters--- car chases, ninjas, cyborg death machines. We used to make body armor out of tinfoil, and re-enact the scenes all over the neighborhood. What about you, where you a Green Beret kid? Secret agent? Grissom: I'm not tellin'. And stay away from my tinfoil.

(Going through the victims hotel room) Nick: Pair of jeans, full of holes. Musta been wearin' 'em a long time. Catherine: Either that or he just bought 'em and paid a fortune. Nick (picks up book): Oh, I remember my first time to Vegas. I got one of these, guide to blackjack. Everybody dreams of hittin' it big out here, don't they? Catherine: Yeah, well, if that ever ends you can kiss Vegas goodbye.

(Looking at the victim) Catherine: Nice clothes. Brass: Well, they do make the man.

Sofia (referring to the crash): Which means the Ferrari was the faster vehicle. Car Dealer: The Ferarri is always the faster vehicle.

Nick: Who wouldn't help a hot girl in distress? Grissom: Some guys are intimidated by beauty. They fear rejection. (Grissom looks over at Sara)

Catherine: Stimulant, erection, and a pain killer. Party in a pill. Doc Robbins: Where was that on my wedding night?