Quinn: What about me?
Harrison: Baby Huck it.

Quinn: Where were you?
Huck: You have to stop asking questions.
Quinn: Look, I am worried about you.
Huck: [shouting] You have to stop asking questions! You're not worried about me, you're interested. You want to know what it feels like to do the things that I do. I see you. I see that look in your eye every time you ask me one of your questions about where I was and what I've been doing. You're interested. And maybe that's because you're able to see me, too--how my mouth has been dry for months, how I've been squirming and vibrating and it wouldn't stop until the other night when everything just stopped and I wasn't thirsty anymore.

Quinn: Huck, I was worried about you, okay?
Huck: Why?
Quinn: What?
Huck: Why are you worried about me? I come to work, I do my job. I go home. I have appropriate emotional responses and I'm taking social cues for behavior. I am being normal. Why are you worried?

Quinn: Are we really going to--
Abby: Slut-shame a dead girl? All aboard.

Quinn: I hacked into Liv's email.
Huck: Why?
Quinn: Because I can.

Look, it's not too late to pull back. Couldn't we just kill another intern? It wouldn't be that hard. A bad one. The worst one.

[to Huck] Job's over. So right now you have to ask yourself if you're a gladiator or if you're looking for revenge, because the way I hear it, you can't have it both ways.

Listen, Zeke. 'Darling' has a law degree from Stanford and the Chief of Police on speed dial. I sat outside here for an hour and watched three ladies enter with three gentlemen, each of whom departed with a spring in his step and probably $200 bucks poorer. So I suggest you go ahead and let 'darling' take a look at the damn security cams.

Harrison: Gladiator?
Quinn: Suit. Yeah. Yeah, I know.