Adelle: Nothing is what it appears to be.
Active: What's that sound?
Rayna: Superstar, superstar, driving in your fancy car, wishing you could take me home...
Woman: Oh god, oh god, oh god...
Man: Why is that beeping?
Cult Members: Leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms...
Reporter: When you hear the words 'Dollhouse,' you probably think of little girls playing tea party.
Adelle: I'm going to make you an offer.
Caroline: I told you, all I want is to be left alone.
Paul: You.
Echo: I only have a few minutes. They can't know this body left an engagement.
Sierra: What's happening?
Echo: She made a mistake. Now she's sad.
Margaret: Jack! I'm taking him around the park, he needs to stretch his legs.
Susan: As soon as the prince kissed her, the spell was broken and Briar Rose opened her eyes.
Saunders: Help! I need help in here!
Mag: Exaltation, this is Mag.
Handler: Big day.
Echo: Is it?
Topher: Would you like a treatment?
Terry: Goodness gracious, but it is good to be out of doors! It certainly is. And aren't little sister and Aunt Sheila having a time though?
Topher: I was just trying to help her. I was just trying to help her.
Daniel: There is nothing to worry about.
Bennett: What's interesting to me is that you don't call out to god. It isn't a question of faith, it's just the vernacular. Anyone in this much pain prays or at least curses.
But we take got from you too. You really are a shell.
Topher: Bennett has twice the resources I have. She thinks she runs that house, and she might for all I know. But there is one thing one thing of which I am certain...
...I have a cooler office.
Man: Glad I got this second chair. Don't get a lot of visitors out here. Makes what friends I have left feel bad to see me this way, I guess.
Roger: Katherine, wait. Darling, darling, we need to talk.
Computer Voice: Welcome to the Attic, we're so glad to have you.
Security Guard: Hey, hey, not this one.
Caroline: Aw, come on, you said you'd give me the tour!
Caroline: I know what you're doing here. I know all about Rossum's sick experiments.
Zone: Butchers! Butchers! Come on, move, move, move, move, move!
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