"You ever miss the apocalypse? I miss the simplicity. I was bad. You were good. Life was easier. Now it’s all so messy. I’m kind of good, which sucks. And you’re kind of bad — which is actually all manner of hot.”
“I was still in pigtails when my dad died, but I remember him coming home from a hunt. He’d burst through that door like, like Steve McQueen or something. And he’d sweep me up in his arms, and I’d breathe in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left, she started smiling again. And we were… we were a family. You wanna know why I want to do the job? For him. It’s my way of being close to him. Now tell me what’s wrong with that.”
"You did it. I mean, it was a little touch-and-go there for a while, but… you did it. You opened the door. And now he’s free at last. He’s free at last! And it is written that the first demon shall be the last seal. And you bust her open. Now guess who’s coming to dinner.”
"It was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on. But, in the end, it was you. Every night, the same offer, remember? Same as your father. And finally you said, "Sign me up." Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch… that was the first seal. ‘And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.’ We had to break the first seal before any others. Only way to get the dominoes to fall, right? Topple the one at the front of the line."
"This is about Jessica, isn’t it? You think that’s your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it’s gonna kill you. Now listen to me—It wasn’t your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her."
“Hey, Castiel. Um… Maybe this is pointless. Look… I don’t know if any part of you even cares, but, um, I still think you’re one of us, deep down. I mean, way, way, way off the reservation, but… Look, we still have till dawn to stop this. Let us help. Please.”
“I kept waiting, praying! I was trapped in there screaming at you! “Just help me, please!” You’re supposed to help people, Dean. Why didn’t you help me? You just attacked. Did you ever think there was a girl in here? No. You just charged in, slashing and burning. You think you’re some kind of hero? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be ridden for months by pure evil while your family has no idea what happened to you? All you were thinking about was your family, your revenge, and your demons! Fifty words of Latin a little sooner, and I’d still be alive.”
"I know you won’t say yes to Michael, either. And I know you won’t kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up—here. I win. So, I win. See you in five years, Dean.”
"Something’s definitely different now, isn’t it? You let me in. You wanted me, partner. So you think you can use your little tricks to banish me again. Like that? No. I do believe I’ve got you, bunk buddy. Got my finger wiggling around in your brainpan. Come on, Sammy! Come on! Say it with me now. Good morning, Vietnam!”
"Do you believe in God, Dean? I’d be surprised if you did. Well, I don’t see how you and your God have done such a bang-up job. War, genocide – it’s only getting worse. This past century, you people racked up a body count that amazed even us. It’s our turn now, and we’re gonna do it right this time."
"Think of a million random acts of chance that let John and Mary be born, to meet, to fall in love, to have the two of you. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it’s not random. It’s not chance. It’s a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will’s an illusion, Dean. That’s why you’re going to say yes. You can’t fight city hall.”
"Come on, Sam. I’ve never lied to you. You could at least pay me the same respect. It’s okay. I’m not mad. A wrestling match inside your noggin… I like the idea. Just you and me, one round, no tricks. You win, you jump in the hole. I win… Well, then I win. What do you say, Sam? A fiddle of gold against your soul says I’m better than you.”