Jayne: Hell, I don’t know. If I wanted schooling, I’d-a gone to school.

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Mal: Well, what about you, Shepherd? How come you’re flying about with us brigands? I mean, shouldn’t you be off bringing religiosity to the Fuzzie-Wuzzies or some such?
Book: Oh, I got heathens aplenty right here.
Mal: If I’m your mission, Shepherd, best give it up. You’re welcome on my boat. God ain’t.

Mal: It sounds like the finest party I can imagine getting paid to go to.
Inara: I don’t suppose you’d find it up to the standards of your outings. More conversation, and somewhat less… petty theft and getting hit with pool cues.

Shindig

Mal: This is the last time. Last time with cows. Hey, there was an idea regarding beagles? They have smallish droppings?
Zoe: I believe so, sir. Also, your disreputable men are here.
Mal: Better go take their money.

Book: If you take sexual advantage of her, you’re going to burn in a very special level of Hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.

Jayne: Instead of us hanging around playing art critic till I get pinched by the Man, how’s about we move away from this eerie-ass piece of work and get on with our increasingly eerie-ass day, how’s that?