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Two brothers follow their father's footsteps as "hunters" fighting evil supernatural beings of many kinds including monsters, demons, and gods that roam the earth.
Sam Winchester: Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted. Dean Winchester: You know what, there's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams, and that they shoot rainbows out of their ass! Sam Winchester: Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?
Bobby Singer: You Idjits!
Dean Winchester: I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot.
Dean Winchester: Ya' know she could be faking. Sam Winchester: Yeah, what do you wanna do, poke her with a stick? [Dean nods] Sam Winchester: Dude, you're not gonna poke her with a stick?
Dean Winchester: [after a nice cop says okie dokie] I like him, he says okie dokie.
Dean Winchester: Come on man. I know Sam, ok? Better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than I do. I mean the guy feels guilty searching the internet for porn.
Dean Winchester: I hope your apple pie is freakin' worth it!
[repeated line] Bobby Singer: Balls!
Dean Winchester: We know a little about a lot of things; just enough to make us dangerous.
Sam Winchester: Dude, I'm not enabling your sick habit. You're like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies. Dean Winchester: What are you talking about, I eat.
Dean Winchester: Damn cops. Sam Winchester: They were just doing their job. Dean Winchester: No, they were doing our job, only they don't know it so they suck at it.
Sam Winchester: Why'd you let me fall asleep? Dean Winchester: Because I am an awesome brother. What did you dream about? Sam Winchester: Lollipops and candycanes.
Dean Winchester: [Sam points to a word carved into a telephone pole] Croatoan? Sam Winchester: Yeah. [Dean stares blankly] Sam Winchester: Roanoke... lost colony... ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class? Dean Winchester: Yeah. Shot heard 'round the world, how bills become laws... Sam Winchester: That's not school; that's schoolhouse rock!
Dean Winchester: [Looking at the haunted hotel] We might even run into Fred and Daphne inside. Mmmm... Daphne. Love her.
Dean Winchester: What's a P.A.? Sam Winchester: I think it's kinda like a slave.
Sam Winchester: Bon Jovi? Dean Winchester: Bon Jovi rocks... on occasion.
Dean Winchester: Ugh, the thought of him driving my car. Sam Winchester: Oh, come on. Dean Winchester: It's killing me! Sam Winchester: Let it go.
[Dean falls on top of Sam as they sneak through a half open window] Dean Winchester: Oh, sorry! Sam Winchester: OK, be quiet. Dean Winchester: Me be quiet? You be quiet!
Dean Winchester: [Repeated line] Son of a bitch!
Sam Winchester: Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're gonna wanna make damn sure it's him. Dean Winchester: You're such a stickler for details, Sammy.
McG: Marty, what do you think? Martin: Not married to salt, what do you want? still sticking with condiments? McG: Just sounds different, not better. What else would a ghost be scared of? Walter Dixon: Aww, ya gotta be kidding me. Martin: [Aside] What would a ghost be scared of? [to McG] Martin: Maybe shotguns. McG: K, that makes even less sense than salt.
Dean Winchester: This looks like a zombie pen, Sammy.