Prison Break

Kellerman: Whoa, whoa; 9-1-1-send. You really think you're going to get to four buttons before I get to one? (point to his weapon)

Hale: Drop the phone, lady. This is the only warning I'm giving you. Drop it!

Nurse Katie (to Sara): Can I ask you something? Sara: Yeah. Nurse Katie (talking about Michael): Why do you care so much? Sara: Because he lied to me. Nurse Katie: They all lie to you. Sara: Maybe, because he's the one guy in here I can actually get to. One guy I can make a difference with.

Michael: Seventeen days from now, they're going to strap my brother to the electric chair, sending 15,000 volts coursing through his body for a crime he didn't commit. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen.

Kellerman: You're thinking too much. Hale: Yeah, God forbid!

Warden Pope (to Bellick): I want the son of a bitch who did this. You do whatever you need to do to find him, you understand?

Dr. Tancredi: Michael, don't be like that. I just want some answers.

Westmoreland: I hope you weren't hanging this whole escape on that money, because I'm not the one in possession of it.

Michael: Without Westmoreland, we're never getting in that room. Sucre: He doesn't want to be part of the escape? Michael: No. Sucre: Then what does he want? He's gotta want something. Everybody wants something.

Sucre (seeing Westmoreland coming out of the break room): I don't get it. How come they let him into the guard's room? Lincoln: He's a trustee. One with the highest security clearance. Sucre: And why him? Lincoln: He can be trusted. Michael: How does one become a trustee? Lincoln: Just have a spotless record for the last 30 years. Sucre: Pretty much counts all of us out.

T-Bag: You're slow walkin' me, aren't you? Abruzzi: Why would I do such a thing? T-Bag: You think Bellick's gonna pop me for shankin' that C.O. Bob. Maybe you'll take a little walk, tell him yourself, right? Then I'll be outta here for good. Well I got news for you. If I go down for killin' Bob, believe me, I'm gonna take a little walk of my own. Tell 'em about that hole you got behind your toilet.

Westmoreland: Michael, I'm grateful for this, I really am. But I've made it a point to keep my nose clean ever since I walked into this place. 32 years without a blemish. If that parole board date ever comes, I want to be ready. I can't jeopardize that. Sorry.

Westmoreland: 'Cause you still think I'm D.B. Cooper. Michael: I don't think. I know. The way I see it, you're in here doing 60-to-life for a vehicular manslaughter. It would have been 20, but the car you were in was stolen. Felony murder rule cubes every sentence, and here you are. Hitting that woman was an accident, but the car? No one accidently steals a car. So the question is, why would Charles Westmoreland be in Arizona boosting a car, ten states away from where he lived, and only ten miles away from the Mexican border? And why, two days before that, would someone make a phone call to his wife from a motel in Portland, a stone's throw away from the airport out of which, shortly after, flight 305 was hijacked by one, D.B. Cooper? Seven hours after the hijacking, records show Charles Westmoreland was treated for a busted knee at a free clinic in Brigham City. Only way to get from Portland, Oregon to Brigham City, Utah in seven hours, is in a car breaking every land-speed record known to man, or flying. It's public record D.B. Cooper jumped out of that 727 about an hour after takeoff. Taking a dive at ten thousand feet with 1.5 million in cash and a hastily packed parachute, might make for a pretty rough landing. Rough enough to shatter some bones, maybe even a left knee. D.B. Cooper would've had a car waiting for him when he landed. According to D.M.V. records, in 1971, Charles Westmoreland was the proud owner of a '65 Chevy Nova. As it happened, a '65 Chevy Nova with the registration number scraped off was found abandoned with a blown gasket along the Arizona border, a mile or two away from where you accidently hit that woman, with your stolen car. Westmoreland: Interesting story. Michael: Interesting man.

Scofield: Let's just say it'd be in everyone's best interest if a fire were to start in there. Westmoreland: Marilyn, did you think he was the arsonist-type? Scofield: (chuckles) I'm not. I'm the cleanup crew-type.

Lincoln: You gotta have faith, kid.

T-Bag: Hold up here a minute, oh, hold up here huh... Seems to be a little confusion... I'm, I'm supposed to be on this detail... Abruzzi (to the C.O): I don't think so. T-Bag: Huh, John, you can't be serious. Not after our long illustrious history we shared together. All those nights in New York City. In California. In St. Louis. They were good times, weren't they, John? Tell the badge here about 'em... cos if you don't want to... I certainly could.

T-Bag: I'm feelin' kinda left out. New York, California, St. Louis. What are we discussing? Scofield: Talkin' baseball actually. T-Bag: Huh. Now that's a subject I just happen to know quite a bit about. Abruzzi: What a shame. The conversation's over.

Westmoreland: We've both been around long enough to know, that when a con starts that snitching business, he's not long for this world. Don't put me in that position, boss. Bellick: If you don't tell me who killed Bob, before I leave this cell, our friendship goes with it. (Bellick rises) That's a nice cat.

Sue Parsons: I have a source that tells me, if you accept what happened and stop fighting your execution, your son will be left out of this. If not, I hope you said goodbye to him when he left here this morning. Lincoln: Who are you? Sue Parsons: One Burrows is going to die. Up to you which one.

Westmoreland: Maybe I did hurt my knee. And I did steal that car, and I did accidentally hit that poor lady. But how could I have hijacked a plane in Portland on November 24 when I was in Folsom finishing up a 30-day drunk and disorderly?

C.O. Stolte: What the hell are you doing' here? Michael: Clean up detail - we thought this was storage. Stolte: This look like storage to you, you idiot? It's a restricted area. It's the CO break room. Now back it up!

Nick: If I didn't know any better, I'd say Lucas is sweet on you. Veronica: Very funny.

T-Bag: I'm comin' along on this endeavor whether you like it or not. I've got a hell of a singin' voice otherwise.