Book: He said, “Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals, speak on every subject, then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano’s edge, and on that day, you will finally meet the man.”
Simon: What if you don’t live by a volcano?
Book: I suspect he was being poetical.
Inara: What did I say to you about barging into my shuttle?
Mal: That it was manly and impulsive?
Inara: Yes, precisely. Only the exact phrase I used was ‘don’t’.
Wash: Can we maybe vote on the whole “murdering people” issue?
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.
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?
Kaylee: Catalyzer on the port compression coil blew. It’s where the trouble started.
Mal: Okay, I need that in captain dummy-talk, Kaylee.
Kaylee: We’re dead in the water.
Book: A government is a body of people usually notably ungoverned.
Simon: Now you’re quoting the Captain.
Kaylee: Well, we’re headed for help… right?
Zoe: Captain will come up with a plan.
Kaylee: That’s good. Right?
Zoe: Possibly you’re not recalling some of his previous plans.
Mal: Now you only gotta scare him.
Jayne: Pain is scary.
Mal: Ah, he’s not the first psycho to hire us, nor the last. You think that’s a commentary on us?
Badger: You think you’re better than other people!
Mal: Just the ones I’m better than.
River: We’re lost. Lost in the woods.
Mal: I would appreciate it if one person on this boat would not assume I’m an evil, lecherous hump.
Zoe: No one’s saying that, sir.
Wash: Yeah, we’re pretty much just giving each other significant glances and laughing incessantly.
River: Bible’s broken. Contradictions, false logistics… doesn’t make sense.
Book: No, no. You can’t…
River: So we’ll integrate non-progressional evolution theory with God’s creation of Eden. Eleven inherent metaphoric parallels already there. Eleven. Important number. Prime number. One goes into the house of eleven eleven times, but always comes out one. Noah’s ark is a problem.
River: We’ll have to call it “early quantum state phenomenon”. Only way to fit 5,000 species of mammals on the same boat.
Simon: Suffocation’s not exactly the most dignified way to go. The human body will involuntarily-
Inara: Please, I don’t really require a clinical description right now.
Simon: I’m sorry. I just, uh… It was my birthday.
Book: Yes, I’d forgotten you’re moonlighting as a criminal mastermind now. Got your next heist planned?
Simon: No. But, I’m thinking about growing a big black mustache. I’m a traditionalist.
Wash: Little River just gets more colorful by the moment. What’ll she do next?
Zoe: Either blow us all up or rub soup in our hair. It’s a toss-up.
Wash: I hope she does the soup thing. It’s always a hoot, and we don’t all die from it.
Simon: What happens if they board us?
Zoe: If they take the ship, they’ll rape us to death, eat our flesh, and sew our skins into their clothing. And if we’re very, very lucky, they’ll do it in that order.
Mal: Hell, this job I would pull for free.
Zoe: Then can I have your share?
Zoe: If you die can I have your share?
Mal: Okay, help me find our man. He’s supposed to be older, kind of stocky, wears a red sash crossways.
Kaylee: Why does he do that?
Mal: Maybe he won the Miss Persephone pageant. Just help me look.
Kaylee: Is that him?
Mal: That’s the buffet table.
Kaylee: Well, how can we be sure, unless we question it?
Mal: Fine. Don’t make yourself sick.
Jayne: “Dear Diary: Today I was pompous and my sister was crazy. Today we were kidnapped by hill folk, never to be seen again. It was the best day ever.”
Zoe: Remember that sex we were planning to have, ever again?