Young River: We got outflanked by the independent squad, and we’re never gonna make it back to our platoon. We need to resort to cannibalism.
Young Simon: That was fast. Don’t we have rations or anything?

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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.