Homicide: Life on the Street, Season 1

Bayliss:
Let me just say something, sir; this is where I've always wanted to be. You know what I'm saying? Homicide. Thinking cops. Not a gun. [Taps his temple] This.

Giardello:
[Slightly bemused] That's very poetic.

Bolander:
[to a medical examiner, in the morgue] What's a lady like you doing in a place like this?

Dr. Blythe:
Looking for Mr. Right.

Felton:
Amazing. Life is amazing.

Pembleton:
Really?

Felton:
This must be a mistake. Am I actually going on a routine call with Frank Pembleton?

Pembleton:
You're right. It's a mistake.

Felton:
Frank Pembleton only works the big investigations. This is just some dead guy.

Pembleton:
See what happens when I come into the office?

Felton:
Imagine - handling a routine call with Detective Frank Pembleton.

Pembleton:
I'm slumming.

Pembleton:
Then what you will be privileged to witness will not be an interrogation, but an act of salesmanship as silver-tongued and thieving as ever moved used cars, Florida swamp land or bibles. For what I am selling is a long prison term to a client who has no genuine use for the product.

Munch:
You're saving your really good lies for some smarter cop, is that it? I'm just a donut in the on-deck circle. Wait until the real guy gets here. Wait until that big guy comes back. I'm probably just his secretary. I'm just Montel Williams. You want to talk to Larry King.

Criminal:
I'm telling you the truth.

Munch:
I've been murder police for ten years. If you're going to lie to me, you lie to me with respect. What is it? Is it my shoes? Is it my haircut? Got a problem with my haircut? Don't you ever lie to me like I'm Montel Williams. I am not Montel Williams. I am not Montel Williams! I am not Montel Williams!

Criminal:
Who is Montel Williams?

Munch:
I'm not Montel Williams. Do you hear me, I am not Montel Williams!

Munch:
Mrs. Doohen, if you and your husband were so unhappy, why didn't you just get a divorce?

Mrs. Doohen:
We talked about it, but we decided to wait until after the children died.

Howard:
Your conscience is going to gnaw at you. Gnaw at you like a. Like a ...

Felton:
Chipmunk.

Howard:
Yeah, like a chipmunk.

Bolander:
[to Dr. Blythe] Detective Lewis says you tend to have crabs.

Bolander:
This lady says to me, "Some of the men I know think its perverse; but I like to make love iguana style."

Howard:
Let me tell you what happened last night.

Felton:
Is this about sex?

Howard:
No.

Felton:
Forget it.

Howard:
I'm lying in bed...

Felton:
Ooh, what were you wearing?

Howard:
Stop it.

Lewis:
Murderers lie cuz they got to, witnesses lie because they think they got to, and everyone else lies for the sheer joy of it.

Lewis:
Refresh my memory. Was the name Abraham Lincoln up on the board today?

Bolander:
I like that. He dies at home of a broken heart. It's refreshing.

Bolander:
I'm a sweetie; everybody says so.

Pembleton:
Tim, will you stop beating that horse? It's dead, it's dog meat, it's glue.

Pembleton:
Felton, Felton, Felton!

Felton:
What?

Pembleton:
Help me out here, will ya?

Felton:
Frank's a serious guy.

Orville:
And not very well-tempered either.

Bayliss:
Why should the killer even stay in Baltimore anymore?

Munch:
Well, if he is from Baltimore, he won't go. He'll talk about it, but he won't do it.

Tucker:
You got your dark side, and it terrifies you, and it frightens you. It scares you cause it's powerful and it makes you capable of doing anything. Anything. Without it, you look in the mirror, and all you see is an am-a-teur.

Crosetti:
You got toilet paper over there?

Lewis:
No.

Crosetti:
You got five ones for a five?

Pembleton:
You want to trust me. I know that. But you're holding back that little bit. Tell me what happened. I'm not going to write it down or anything. I'm going to sit right here. You see no...I have no pen in my hand. Nothing up my sleeve. Please, don't look at me as a cop. Look at me as a friend. Look at me as a friend. Cause that's how I'm looking at you. As a friend. Not as somebody that committed murder. Not as a really vicious person. Because you're not. I think a lot of you. You told me about your drinking and about being an Araber and everything else. I got problems too. Hell, we all got problems. Tell me what happened. I'll believe anything that you say.

Araber:
[to Tim Bayliss] You from Baltimore, right? Do you say BAWL-mer or BALL-di-more? Come on, say it. I'll tell you which neighborhood you're from. I rode the streets. I talk to people. Say Baltimore, and I'll tell you within ten blocks where you were born. Yeah, you from here. You got that home grown look. The not too southern, not too northern, not on the ocean but still on the water look. With maybe a touch of inbreeding.

Pembleton:
I owned a Komondor. You with that Molly, you wouldn't have a clue; would you?

Bayliss:
You had a Komondor? One of them foul-smelling sheep dogs from Hungary? You want me to be impressed?

Pembleton:
Well, compared with an Irish setter, my dog is a genius; an Einstein.

Bayliss:
Genius? And this genius's name was Rex.

Pembleton:
Life would be perfect, if it was only kids and dogs.

Danvers:
The jury's coming back.

Felton:
That was fast.

Howard:
Is that good or bad? I can't remember.

Felton:
Of course it's good! We can go eat dinner soon.

Giardello:
Bayliss, where's Pembleton?

Bayliss:
Uh, I don't know, Gee.

Giardello:
Don't say, "I don't know." He's your partner, you should know his every move, his every breath. Like a lover, he should never be far from your thoughts.

Bayliss:
That was poetic.

Giardello:
I'm in no mood for sarcasm.

Howard:
Smoking causes mouth, lung cancer, emphysema....

Felton:
Oh my god, you quit smoking. You committed this madness without consulting me first? Are you nuts? You're selfish. You ex-smokers are more relentless than AA or the Moonies or those born-again vegetarians. Well, I'll tell you what, I'm not gonna let you bully me about this. I don't wanna hear about how your lungs are pinker than a newborn baby's or how you're free of mucus and phlegm. It's all a bunch of nonsense. It's all a bunch of crap. I don't want you counting the number of days you've gone without a cigarette when you're supposed to be watching my back. You put my life on the line. I'll put in for hazard pay. No, you know what? I'll put in for another partner.

Pembleton:
So you went out to dinner, then back to your place and after a night of hot, steamy, sweaty bone-rattling you laid back to light a cigarette. He got on your case about the cigarettes. It's about the smoking. It's about love, isn't it?

Howard:
It shows, huh? I feel tawdry just thinking about it. I must be crazy, certifiable. I should see the department shrink about it. Frank...

Pembleton:
What?

Howard:
Frank, Ed Danvers is an alpha male. A stallion among ponies. A man larger than life itself.

Pembleton:
You mean large as in large?

Howard:
Why else do you think I quit a two pack a day habit?

Pembleton:
Wait a minute, we're talking about Ed Danvers right? The midget dweeb? C'mon, cut it out.

Howard:
No, he drives me insane; I see stars. I walk around feeling all this sweet pain.

Pembleton:
I shouldn't be hearing this.

Howard:
How do you talk about something like this? And he's constant. I mean anywhere, all day, all night, in the park, in the movie theatre.

Pembleton:
Howard...

Howard:
I had to set some ground rules. He can't touch me in restaraunts or the church.

Pembleton:
Howard, I think you're going too far.

Howard:
Frank, I was only kidding. I didn't give up cigarettes for Ed, I gave them up for me.

Pembleton:
You were kidding? About everything?

Howard:
Yes. No.

Pembleton:
C'mon, Howard.

Howard:
See, I guess you'll never know.

[Fooling a suspect that a photocopier is an 'Electrolyte Neutron Magnetic Test Scanner']

Munch:
Detective Bolander, continue the interrogation. Me, I gotta get outta here, because I cannot afford to lose any more of my sperm count.

Lewis:
I know this probably doesn't say much for me; but you're probably the closest thing I have to a best friend. So without further ado, I want you to see my baby.

Crosetti:
Ohh, Meldrick.

Lewis:
She's a beauty, huh?

Crosetti:
I think she looks like an engine.

Lewis:
Not just an engine, Crosetti. It's a high-riser, 427- overhead V-8 with dual Holley carbs. 600 horses of power, baby, she flies like the wicked witch of the West. I'm gonna hafta move to Nevada.

Crosetti:
Hold on, let me see it again. Where are the doors and the tires?

Lewis:
See, this is the petty-minded details. What you have in your hand is the heart and soul of the Cobra that I am building.

Crosetti:
Let me tell ya. That doesn't play with me, see when you buy a house, you don't buy a pile of dirt with a toilet on top of it. You get 4 walls which constitutes a dwelling. You - if you look very closely - have squat here.

Lewis:
See, you're makin' fun of me and I appreciate that; but what I have there is the foundation of a classic sportscar. What you have on your tie there is ink. [phone rings] Homicide, Detective Goodwrench.

Felton:
It's impossible to partner with someone when they're trying to quit smoking.

Pembleton:
It's the guilt trip they run, right?

Felton:
I feel like I gotta post bail everytime I take a cigarette out. Every time I take one out, I can feel Howard's eyes burning a hole through the back of my head, like I just abandoned her.

Pembleton:
I quit smoking once. Gonna quit again. Someday for good.

Felton:
Me too.

Pembleton:
I quit for 3 months once.

Felton:
8 months.

Pembleton:
8 months? That's impressive. 8 months?

Felton:
Well, not straight, no. Over the years, I quit smoking 10 times for a total of 8 months.

Pembleton:
We should stop smoking.

Felton:
Our partners, they know what they're doing.

Pembleton:
They do; don't they? Self-righteous bastards.

Felton:
We've been on the night shift, what, a week? Every night someone lights this candle by the board.

Giardello:
You're a detective. Solve it.

Felton:
A homicide detective. If the candle killed someone, I'd close the case.

Bolander:
When I was young, a codependent relationship was a good marriage. Sometimes I wanna call my wife just to hear the sound of her voice; but I know that five minutes into that phone call, my blood pressure is going through the roof, the phone is sailing across the room, and I'm wishing that she's on a plane falling out of the sky. It's over. I know it's over. But I had to replace six telephones before I really got the hint.

Pembleton:
Uh, Tim, I'm the secondary on this case. If you have something, I think you should share.

Bayliss:
You should talk about sharing.

Lewis:
If I could just find this damn thing, I could go home.

Crosetti:
Life is a mystery. Just accept it.

Lewis:
You're in your own world Crosetti.

Crosetti:
The quest for life... not finding... looking. I read about it in this book.

Lewis:
Now since when did you ever read a book?

Crosetti:
I read this book... an excerpt in this book.

Lewis:
You said you read a book but you didn't read nothing but an excerpt.

Crosetti:
It says you never find what you're looking for because the whole point is looking for it. You find it, it defeats its own purpose.

Lewis:
Y'know you're in your own little world because don't no one wants to live in there with you.

Crosetti:
You try to explain everything, but there are things you cannot explain.

Lewis:
Y'know what you are? You are a little fat head guinea. A little Italian Salami-brain.

Crosetti:
You'll regret that.

Lewis:
Man, lets c'mon back tomorrow and look for this projectile.

Crosetti:
All right.

Pembleton:
[about Bayliss] He's okay, he's thorough, he learns, but he's a snail!

Giardello:
Frank, if you were a homicide, who do you think I'd assign the case to? The snail.

Lewis:
What's that?

Crosetti:
I... it's a rosary, alright? I'm praying.

Lewis:
Praying because you didn't break your hand?

Crosetti:
I'm praying for Chris.

Lewis:
Well that's fine praying for Chris, but you didn't even pray for yourself when you got shot.

Bolander:
You got two things right, you got a drug deal and a shootout, but not between those two guys! Lowe is lying wounded on the floor, and Cole is lying dead on top of him on his back!

Munch:
...They shoot each other! [holds out his finger, mimicking a gun] BANG! BANG! Cole gets shot in the chest, then he spins around, falls over on Lowe!

Bolander:
Okay, where's Cole's gun? We only recovered ONE gun!

Munch:
So far...

Bolander:
[angry] What'd he do, SWALLOW it?

Bolander:
[to Munch] The depth of your stupidity frightens me sometimes.

Pembleton:
I had my doubts but you're right. I am now convinced that Tucker killed Adena Watson.

Bayliss:
Really? I'm not so sure he did anymore.

Pembleton:
Jake... Jake, what kinda name is that for a dog, especially a police dog?... Jake...

Bayliss:
Jake is a good name, uh, solid, dependable, easy for a dog to respond to.

Pembleton:
Naw naw naw, a dog should be named, um... Rex.

Bayliss:
Rex... you know I had an Irish Setter one time and his name was Molly.

Pembleton:
[laughs] An Irish Setter?

Bayliss:
Molly was a beautiful dog!

Danny Blythe:
Eh Stan, anyone ever jump off this balcony? [glances out a huge window onto the street] You know, did you ever have a killer, and you were just about to put him away, and he, like, made a break for it and he runs out the doors... AND OFF THE BALCONY ONTO THE DECK! [rushes forward excitedly, screaming and laughing] Ah, that's cool, man! That ever happen?

Bolander:
No... no.

Munch:
We got a call... Barney Street, shooting.

Bolander:
Okay.

Danny Blythe:
That's cool, man! Let's do it, let's do it, c'mon... fresh...

[Danny wanders away, leaving Bolander smiling and Munch looking worried]

Bolander:
Did he say things are gonna be 'fresh'?

Munch:
[nods his head] ... 'Fresh'.

Bolander:
[confused] You wanna tell me what that means?

Munch:
It means... uh, neato, keen.

Bolander:
'Neatokey'? I'm glad you understand these things.

Munch:
Have you ever been high, Stan?

Bolander:
Be serious, Munch.

Munch:
I am being serious. They call it a high for a reason.

Bolander:
Have you ever smoked dope, John?

Munch:
I don't have to answer that.

Bolander:
Nurse, can I have a cup over here? I'd like to test this man's urine.

Pembleton:
You said summer was hell.

Bayliss:
Well... it was.

Pembleton:
It's all mind over matter, Bayliss.

Bayliss:
No, no, it's more than mind over matter. I know my mind and my mind remembers my ass melting into the tops of my shoes, all right? Summer was hell.

Pembleton:
There's no humidity in hell.

Bayliss:
What, you do a field report?

Pembleton:
By all reliable accounts, there's not a single drop of water to pass between heaven and hell. Hell is a dry heat.

Bayliss:
Oh. Well, book me a flight.