Walter: Where are you going?
Peter: It occurs to me it might be easier to sleep in the tub.
Walter: A root beer float. Delicious.
Peter:: Next time, would you please drain the tub?
Walter: Oh yes, indeed.
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Peter: (Walter) was awake until five in the morning reciting the chemical compositions of his favorite beverages to me. That was right after he finished lecturing me on how I’d squandered my above-average intellect and my substantial education. All while he was standing there naked, because he prefers the breeze.
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Olivia: He would rather go back to Sinclairs than work here without you. He said that more than once.
Peter: Was he wearing clothes at the time?
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Walter: The precision with which this object was constructed in inspiring, down to the metallic bonds.
Peter: I sure hope that a gigantic metallic suppository isn’t the pinnacle of human achievement.
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Walter: Open you mind, son, or someone may open it for you.
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Peter: What is that?
Walter: It’s called “sound.”
Peter: I know that, thank you.
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Walter: If I attempted to explain it, you… you might think me mad.
Peter: Don’t worry, there’s no chance of that happening.
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Walter: If it would help you feel a sense of retribution, I would tell you to inject me too. But… I’d most likely enjoy it.
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Olivia: Your credentials have been approved. Civilian consultant to the Department of Homeland Security.
Peter: Does this mean I don’t need an escort to come into the Federal Building any more?
Olivia: Yeah.
Peter: Will it get me out of a speeding ticket?
Olivia: Maybe.
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Walter: I know you must think me insane.
Peter: Not nearly as much as you might think.
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