Supernatural Season 4 Episode 1

Dean: (over loud rattling and banging) Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind.

Dean: You sure you did the ritual right? (Bobby glares at him) Sorry. Touchy, touchy.

Dean: It's a hell of an art project you got going there.
Bobby: Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe. How you doing?
Dean: Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife, I mean we're pretty much set to catch and kill anything I've ever heard of.
Bobby: This is still a bad idea.
Dean: Yeah, Bobby, I heard you the first ten times. (Bobby glares at him) What do you say we ring the dinner bell?

Bobby: (about Sam) How'd you know he'd use that name?
Dean: Are you kidding me? What don't I know about that kid?

Dean: Look, pal, I'm not buying what you're selling. Who are you really?
Castiel: I told you.
Dean: Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?
Castiel: Good things do happen, Dean.
Dean: Not in my experience.
Castiel: What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved.
Dean: Why'd you do it?
Castiel: Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.

Dean: Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes.
Castiel: I warned her not to spy on an angel. It can be…overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice. You already knew that.
Dean: You mean the gas station and the hotel. That was you talking? (Castiel nods) Buddy, next time lower the volume.
Castiel: It was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.
Dean: And what visage are you in now, what, holy tax accountant?

Dean: Who are you?
Castiel: Castiel.
Dean: Yeah, I figured that much. I mean what are you?
Castiel: I'm an Angel of the Lord.
Dean: Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing.
Castiel: This is your problem, Dean, you have no faith.

Dean: Who are you?
Castiel: I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.
Dean: Yeah, thanks for that.

Sam: I tried everything, that's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate, Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right. You were rotting in Hell, for months, for months, and I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right. Dean, I'm sorry.
Dean: It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize, I believe you.

(Bobby throws holy water on Dean)
Dean: I'm not a demon either, you know.
Bobby: Sorry. Can't be too careful.

Demon Waitress: So you get to just strolled out of the Pit, huh? Tell me, what makes you so special?
Dean: I'd like to think it's because of my perky nipples.

Dean: (in the Impala) What the hell is that?
Sam: That's an iPod jack.
Dean: You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up.

Bobby: Dean, your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop. And you'd been buried for four months. Even if you could slip out of Hell and inside your meatsuit.
Dean: I know. I should look like a Thriller video reject.
Bobby: What do you remember?
Dean: Not much. I remember I was a hellhound's chew toy. Then lights out. Then I come to six feet under. That was it.

Dean: Dude, I'm so in.
Sam: Yeah she's gonna eat you alive.
Dean: Hey, I just got out of jail. Bring it.
Pamela: You're invited too, Grumpy.
Dean: You are not invited.