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?
Book: River, you don’t fix the Bible.
River: It’s broken. It doesn’t make sense.
Book: It’s not about making sense. It’s about believing in something. And letting that belief be real enough to change your life. It’s about faith. You don’t fix faith, River. It fixes you.
River: You’re afraid we’re going to run out of air. That we’ll die gasping. But we won’t. That’s not going to happen. We’ll freeze to death first.
Mal: Don’t worry, I’m not gonna start any sword fights. I’m over that phase.
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.