- Jack Yeats: Even paranoids have enemies. How do letterbombs work?
- Weinfield: They blow you to bits when you open them. Jack, relax, none of the guys that would like to kill you know how to make a letterbomb; much less write a letter.
- Gloria Sardone: [taking notes] Catherine Sienna... Any relation to the saint?
- Jack Yeats: The same that way you're related to the poet.
- Catherine Sienna: May I offer you a beverage?
- Jack Yeats: Please. Double Jamesons, two cubes.
- Catherine Sienna: [relaying order] Magdalena, Double Assumptions, two Holy Ghosts.
- Catherine Sienna: You have sorrowful eyes Mr. Yates.
- Jack Yeats: I haven't been sleeping well.
- Catherine Sienna: I like that in a man.
- Jack Yeats: Insomnia?
- Catherine Sienna: In the art is a flimsy mortal bastion. I like the evidence of ruins to your soul. It suggest intriguing possibilities to the physician.
- Naples O'Rorke: Do you know the parable of the Prodigal Son?
- Jack Yeats: Some would say too well.
- Naples O'Rorke: Consider this, killing the fatted cow could mean there's going to be an autopsy before there's going to be a feast.
- Jack Yeats: How do I know you're not Paris?
- Naples O'Rorke: Oh come now, Mr. Yates, if I were him, do you think I'd want to be me?
- Jack Yeats: Happiness *is* possible Beth. As long as all the parties make sure their inner-children are in bed before the streetlights go on, and spend the rest of the evening as adults.
- Kenny Lum: You're an obituary writer and I'm a pathologist, what else but death would bring us together? Still an excuse for a party is fine with me.