— I mean, I'm the one that she swore... to love, honour and obey.
— Listen... She swore to obey?
— Well, no, not... But that's just my point. You, she obeys. She obeys you. There's obeying going on right under my nose.
— Look, Zoe and I have a history. She trusts me.
— What's that supposed to mean?
— Nothing. You're making out like she follows my every word. That ain't true.
— Sure it is.
— Not so. There's plenty orders of mine that she didn't obey.
— Name one.
— She married you!
Life's just too damn short for ifs and maybes.
The woods are the only place I can see a clear path.
Inara Serra: — I'd have to say this is the first time we've had a preacher on board.
Derrial Book: — Well, I wasn't expecting to see a state official either. I'm missing something funny?
Kaylee: — Not so funny.
Inara Serra: — Ambassador is Mal's way of saying.
Mal: — She's a whore, Shepherd.
Kaylee: — The term is "Companion."
Mal: — I always get those mixed up.
— What does that make us?
— Big damn heroes, sir.
It's my estimation... that every man ever got a statue made of him... was one kind of son of a bitch or another. It ain't about you, Jayne. It's about what they need.
— So explain to me again why Zoe wasn't in the dress.
— Tactics, woman. Needed her in the back. Besides, those soft, cotton dresses feel nice. There's a whole airflow.
— And you'd know that because...?
— You can't open the book of my life in the middle. Like women, I'm a mystery.
— Best keep it that way. I withdraw the question.
— Do we look reasonable to you?
— Well, looks can be deceiving.
