Carl: Maybe if Don had stayed put, didn't go to the Gulf, then he could have resisted the urge to thrown himself off a goddamn building. Stupid bastard.
Nick: It's tough being a soldier, tough being a cop.
Carl: Too tough for you. You ever think about coming back on the force?
Nick: You're drunk.
Carl: Getting there.
Amanda: (at Claudia's grave) Nick is doing really well, thought you'd like to know. He's not a cop any more, but I think you'd be very proud of him. Claudia, you've left me a lot to live up to.
Fielding: Live around here, do you?
Amanda: Here, there, wherever fate takes me.
Fielding: You know, it's a funny thing about fate.
Amanda: What's that?
Fielding: It doesn't discriminate. Next time we meet, not gonna be on holy ground.
Nick: Jon Ray Fielding. I checked with Washington. He died in the Gulf War seven years ago, you know him?
Amanda: Yes and no. Yes, he's an Immortal, yes, I know him and no, I can't tell you where he is.
Nick: That was easy.
Amanda: Well, I'm defenseless in the face of your steely-eyed determination!
Nick: You know you can really be a heartless selfish bitch sometimes.
Amanda: Oh darling, that's taken centuries of practice.
Fielding: Killed? Nah, we don't kill any more. Oh we used to, before you was born. Hell, before your daddy was born. Back when war was a filthy slaughterhouse and men were screaming bleeding things. Good old days, eh? But no one's killed any more. Eliminated, yeah. Degraded, you bet. Suppressed, impacted, taken out. But blips on a radar screen cannot be killed.
Fielding: You ever smell a man burned to death?
Nick: What the hell are you talking about?
Fielding: Oh man, I gotta tell you it has got a sweet ripe hot stench to it, catches deep in your throat. I want you to imagine four men, all burning alive, all trapped inside a tank, with no way out.
Nick: You were there.
Amanda: You don't think it's about time? I mean, I've lived my whole life with not a care in the world and all of a sudden I find out I'm leaving a trail of corpses. I killed 102 men. I'm not running away.
Nick: He's a professional soldier!
Amanda: We all are. Look, I know you want to take responsibility for this, but you can't. The only thing you can take responsibility for is introducing me to my conscience.
Fielding: Being a soldier is all I knew how to do so that's what I became-–France, Spain, World War 2, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf. Living to die, over and over again.
Amanda: War after war, how can you do that?
Fielding: It's all I know.
Nick: The war is over.
Fielding: There is always another war.