Wash (as Stegosaurus): Yes. Yes. This is a fertile land, and we will thrive. We will rule over all this land, and we will call it …’This Land’.
Mal: You know, I do believe that woman is planning to shoot me again.
Simon: What’s going on?
Wash: Don’t fall asleep now. Sleepiness is weakness of character, ask anyone.
Zoe: It is not!
Wash: You’re acting Captain. You know what happens, you fall asleep?
Zoe: Jayne slits my throat and takes over?
Wash: That’s right.
Zoe: And we can’t stop it?
Wash: I wash my hands of it. Hopeless case. I’ll read a nice poem at the funeral. Something with imagery.
Zoe: You could lock the door. Keep the power-hungry maniac at bay.
Wash: Don’t know. I’m starting to like this poetry thing. “Here lies my beloved Zoe, my autumn flower… somewhat less attractive now that she’s all corpsified and gross—”
Zoe: You sanguine about the kind of reception we’re apt to receive on an Alliance ship, Cap’n?
Mal: Absolutely. What’s “sanguine” mean?
Zoe: “Sanguine”. Hopeful. Plus, point of interest? it also means “bloody”.
Mal: Well, that pretty much covers all the options, don’t it?
Wash: Every planet has its own weird customs. About a year before we met, I spent six weeks on a moon where the principal form of recreation was juggling geese. My hand to God. Baby geese. Goslings. They were juggled.
Wash: We gotta go to the crappy town where I’m the hero!
Mal: I’m gettin’ a little weary of this attitude, Wash.
Wash: Are you? Well, I’m so very sorry, sir. I guess the news that we’re all gonna be purple and bloated and fetal in a few hours has made me little snippy.
Kaylee: No power in the ‘verse can stop me.
Wash: I’d say worth a little risk.
Jayne: Yeah, that was some pretty risky sittin’ you did there.
Wash: That’s right, of course, ’cause they wouldn’t arrest me if we got boarded, I’m just the pilot. I can always say I was flying the ship by accident.
Jayne: Here’s a little concept I been workin’ on. Why don’t we shoot her first?
Wash: It is her turn.
Jayne: Time for some thrilling heroics.
Sir Warrick: I know him. And I think he’s a psychotic low-life.
Mal: And I think calling him that is an insult to the psychotic low-life community.
Doralee: A place like this might be good for your sister. Quiet. Safe. A place where folks take care of each other.
Simon: Mmm, yes, seems like a lovely little community of kidnappers.
Mal: Well, my days of not taking you seriously are certainly coming to a middle.
Simon: I reattached a girl’s leg. Her whole leg. She named her hamster after me. I got a hamster. He drops a box of money, he gets a town.
Kaylee: Hamsters is nice.
Simon: To Jayne! The box-dropping, man-ape-gone-wrong-thing.
Bester: Mal! What do you need two mechanics for?
Mal: I really don’t.
Wash: I can’t stand the thought of something happening that might cause you two to come back with another thrilling tale of bonding and adventure. I just can’t take that right now.
Mal: Okay. I’m lost. I’m angry. And, I’m armed.
Jayne: Any one you walk away from, right? Long as we got the goods, I call this a win.
Mal: Right. We win.
Jayne: Testing. Testing, Captain, can you hear me?
Mal: I’m standing right here.
Jayne: You’re coming through good and loud.
Mal: ‘Cause I’m standing right here.
Mal: Whatever happens, remember I love you.
Mal: Because you’re my wife.
Zoe: Right, sir. Honey.
Mal: My work’s illegal, but at least it’s honest.
Jayne: This place gives me an uncomfortableness.
Saffron: I do know my Bible, sir. “On the night of their betrothal, the wife shall open to the man as the furrow to the plow, and he shall work in her, in and again, till she bring him to his full, and rest him then upon the sweat of her breast.”
Mal: Whoa. Good Bible.
River: They say the snow on the roof is too heavy. They say the ceiling will cave in. His brains are in terrible danger.