Pushing Daisies Season 1 Episode 9

Ned: I won't bring him back so you can watch me kill him again... I won't do that to you.

Emerson: Scratching an itch only makes it itchier. This is my itch, and I sure as hell don't want you scratching it understood?
Ned: Understood. No more scratching. My itches or yours.

Ned: What if Steve Kaiser was right; life just adds up to one big calculation where you add up all the good you've ever done and subtract all the bad and… after what I've done… what if Chuck and I don't add up.
Emerson: Oh you add up… to zero
Ned: Zero?
Emerson: As in zero interest in discussing it.

Ned: You don't have to do this, Madeleine. Please put the gun and the bat down. Or definitely the gun.

Emerson: The relationship between a father and his daughter is tenuous. It's very fragile. It could take a life time to sort out all the issues there. And what you think? You can just all "happily ever after" after just one minute? Man, you a dreamer.

Narrator: The facts were these: Abner Newsome was a happy child. For the first thirty-four seconds of his life.

Ned: Do you know you have a "tell" when you lie?
Olive: Do I?
Ned: You answer questions with questions.
Olive: Maybe I know I have a tell and I know you know I have a tell and maybe I'm doing it now to confuse you because you don't know what tell I'm telling.

Narrator: Victor Narramore didn't see who killed him, but he did see how he was killed. And he was, in fact, killed with kindness.
Ned: You were killed with kindness?
Victor: Not the sentiment. Which would have been lovely...

Emerson: Why would somebody give somebody a Christmas sweater for Christmas? You can only wear it that day.
Ned: He means should. Only wear it that day.
Emerson: Yeah. Either you got to take off what you got on to put it on. Or you got wait another year for the next holiday season.
Coroner: Why are you going toe-to-toe with me on fashion?

Emerson: Dead Girl could be out there all grudey grudge with a beef to pick. (making woman's voice) "Hello evening news! I'm Lonely Tourist Charlotte Charles. I just crawled out of my grave, and here's how. Hee-hee."

Narrator: Olive Snook had been delivering pies for weeks, not realizing she was a homeopathic drug mule.

Coroner: My niece gave me this sweater.
Emerson: That thing's uglier then a chipmunk's ass.
Ned: He means the sweater, not your niece.

Chuck: You can't have any of my hair.
Oscar: Then I guess the dog's ass-shavings will have to do.

Olive: I just can't help myself, I'm a bosomoholic.

Ned: But do you hate me?
Chuck: I have to hate you a little, just for a little while. But I can't do that if you stay
Ned: I don't want you to hate me, I'll stay.
Chuck: If you stay, I'll just end up hating you more. Just go.

Abner: Oh please, tell me I'm a suspect. Awesome. Cause, cause, you know what I did first? I took a magic potion that made the tissue-paper sack I call my heart work. Then I stepped on his neck with the soggy atrophied breadsticks that I used to call my legs.

Emerson: Oh lord, please don't tell me I ain't dead.
Ned: You're not dead.
Emerson: And I can be not dead for longer than a minute?
Ned: There are no minutes involved. You will continue to be not dead, until you're dead. But I never undeaded you at any point.
Emerson: Good.

Chuck: You sneak up on people, that could get you inadvertently bludgeoned with a rolling pin.
Oscar: I find a bludgeoning to be a unique sensory experience. I taste pennies and smell burnt toast.

Emerson: The Wish-A-Wish lady.
Ned: She's the kill-a-killer.

Emerson: We are giant, enormous idiots. And don't you say "gi-normous" because that ain't a word.

Emerson: I'm a father.
Ned: As in a priest?
Emerson: As in a man... with a daughter.

Emerson: Do I look like a damn Ouija board?

Emerson: Now you're covered in word vomit.