Prison Break

Roland: I put just as much time into this as anybody else. I make one little mistake and I'm Judas? No. You know what? Call Self, because I'm going back to the can! I'm done with this!

Feng: Our paths never crossed on Copperhead, but I did deal with one of your colleagues. A less capable associate. Whatever happened to him? Gretchen: He was skinned and hung from an overpass. Feng: Ah yes, I recall.

Wyatt: (to the General) If you're unhappy with my methods, maybe you should parcel out the job to someone else.

Bellick: If anything should happen to me, call my mom in Chicago. Tell her I didn't die like some damn convict locked up in some penitentiary.

Roland: (to Sara) I see your boyfriend's no longer sporting the latest in GPS fashion technology. So if neither one of you are wearing ankle monitors, what are you still doing here? You should be having hot, fugitive sex in every cash-only no-tell motel from here to Mexico.

Gretchen: You proved your point. We're even. Sara: We're a long way from even.

Michael: It looks like someone set us up. Roland: Seriously? Michael: Yeah, and I'm wondering if it was you.

Lincoln: It doesn't take two people to crash a car, you know. Sucre: You're kidding me, right? After all I've been through with you, now you're worried about my ass? Shut up and drive.

Michael: As soon as we have those pages back, Gretchen and T-Bag are going to pay for everything. They're going to get exactly what's coming to them.

Sara: Some things are more important than what two people want, Roland. I honestly hope that some day that makes sense to you.

Michael: (to Roland) You can either go upstairs and sit on your cot and ride out the rest of this thing, or I can call Agent Self, and you can ride out the rest of your prison sentence.

Michael: You told Sara about the nosebleeds. Lincoln: I'm worried about you. Michael: Stop starting fires I have to put out.

Roland: Just because I didn't do time with you guys doesn't make me a rat.

Sara: This isn't about Gretchen. It's not about one person and we have to finish it.

Sara: I'll take care of the messy part, you just help me get him on the gurney.

Wyatt: (to the General) Broad daylight. A city street. And they knew your route. If Scofield's mission was to kill you, he'd have a better way to do it.

Trishanne: (to T-Bag) You pull a gun on me again and this won't be the only set of prints I'll be copying.

Michael: When mom got sick, Linc was at the hospital every day, holding her hand, watching her die and he was thirteen. It changed him. It made him overprotective and now he's jumping to all the wrong conclusions, for all the wrong reasons and it's over nothing because I'm fine.

Gretchen: (to Sara) I don't expect us to exchange gifts, but that doesn't mean we can't be allies.

Lincoln: (to Michael) Mom couldn't outrun this! What makes you think you can?

Sucre: (to Michael) What are you still doing here? Go get the son-of-a-bitch!

Roland: This is your plan? You're going to pull a kamikaze mission on the general's car? Lincoln: I never said this was going to be easy.

T-Bag: Gretchen, Susan, whatever your name is, I suggest you find a way to bury the hatchet with Michael Scofield's woman. We got work to do.

Sara: (to Michael) When a tumor like that gets large enough to cause problems, it's going to come with a lot of symptoms: loss of short-term memory, problems with your depth perception, problems with your motor skills...

Michael: No one's expecting you to actually treat this bastard, all right? Sara: I'm still a doctor.

Roland: (calls out to Sara) I'm sorry. (Sara pauses and looks back) Roland: For Vegas. I'm sorry for Vegas. (Sara silently walks away)

Gretchen: (to T-Bag about Trishanne being in the office) She's on work release, just like you.

Michael: (to Sara) Gretchen's alive.

Sara: Your brother told me about your nosebleeds. And he told me about your mom. Michael: That wasn't his place... Sara:...To be worried about you?

Gretchen: First off, Panama was a job... Michael: Some other time. What do you want with Scylla?

Lincoln: How can I be a good father if I'm always in prison?

Feng: Where is Scylla? T-Bag: Good morning to you too, sir.

Michael: Linc get out of there, it's a trap!