Mental

Carl: You may have won this round, but you're a sad excuse for a director of psych services. I think you're mentally unstable. Unfit to be anyone's superior. Jack: Least of all yours. Carl: Least of all mine. Jack: It must be tough spending every day with people who are far less intelligent than you. Carl: It's not easy, no. Jack: And yet here you stay waiting for me to trip up, to go that little bit too far so you can step in. Carl: As I should have to begin with. Jack: Uh huh.

Jack: Sometimes you need to give up a part of yourself in order to feel whole.

Carl: Any person who deliberately cuts off a healthy limb is insane. Jack: "Insane's" a legal term, Carl. It's not a medical word.

Chloe: Brian, how are you? Brian: (after cutting off his hand) How am I? Better than I've ever felt. Like a great weight has been lifted. My body's finally right. Complete. I'm whole.

Brian: I just don't have anything in common with those guys. Work the machines. It's just a job. Carl: I see, loftier goals then. Brian: I'd like to go back to school, study architecture. Chloe: That sounds like a great idea. Carl: Although it might be tough drawing blueprints and putting together models without all your fingers. Have you thought about that? Brian: Yes, but I'd rather deal with that than have surgery to put them back on.

Veronica: No one's professional when it comes to family.