Sam: We got work to do.
Dean: I meant what I said at the church. You’re capable of anything, Sam. And hell if you didn’t prove me right.
Dean: There is a war on, and it’s on you. There’s thousands of them out there. You said you lost your Grace. That means you’re human. That means you bleed and you read and you sleep and all the things you never had to worry about before.
Sam: So what, I just die?
Bobby: Just die? All the good you’ve done. All the people you’ve saved. You’ve saved the world. How many people can say that? … what you call dying, I call leaving a legacy.
Dean: There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you
Castiel: It hurts.
Ezekiel: What strength I have left, I offer to you.
Sam: We’ve got a major freaking crapfest on our hands. Thousands of super-powered dicks touching down and we got no idea where to start.
Dean: You’re a doctor. You’re a medical professional. You’re trying to tell me that my brother’s life is in God’s hands? What, is that supposed to be a comfort? God has nothing to do with this equation at all.
Dean: The first one who can help me gets my help in return, and you know that ain’t nothing.
Dean: Just because you’re dying doesn’t mean you’re dead, not yet, OK? We have jimmied ourselves out of worse. We’re gonna fight this. I got the plan, you just need to hang on.
Sam: If you’re you, but you’re really me, and you’re the part of me that wants to fight to live.
Dean: Yes. I have no idea what you just said, but continue.
Cas: I would fly, but I have no wings. Not anymore.
Bobby: First of all, you didn’t rescue jack, halfwit, Sam did. Second of all, Sam, you’re in a coma. Now suck as that may, sometimes that’s just the way things go.
Bobby: You mean like the way one of you idjits does some bass-ackwards crazy thing to beat death, like sell your soul? Like that worked so well the last time.
Biker: I’m gonna finish this call, then I’m gonna stab you.
Dean: I’m sure you’re a nice person and that you mean well, but ‘inevitable’? That’s a fighting word where I come from.
Dean: I’ve got the King of Hell in my trunk.
Ezekiel: This young man has prayed for our assistance. Are we creatures of wrath or compassion? I would argue the latter.
Hael: There’s a place. I built it when I was last here, many years ago. A grand canyon. I would like to see that.
Bobby: You gotta let go of fighting, scratching, looking for loopholes, cuz that ain’t happening.
Bobby: You’ve saved the world, son
Dean: My plan is to fight. My plan is to try. My plan is to give a damn. Are you telling me there’s nothing? You telling me there’s nothing to fight for, that there’s nothing to hope for?
Death: I consider it to be quite the honor to be collecting the likes of Sam Winchester. I try so hard not to pass judgment at times like this, not my bag, you see, but you? Well played, my boy.
Sam: I need to know one thing. If I go with you, can you promise that this time it will be final? I mean, if I’m dead, I stay dead. Nobody can reverse it, nobody can deal it away, and nobody else can get hurt because of me.
Hael: They will hunt you. Until their last breath, they will seek revenge on the angel that did this, who destroyed Heaven. They will seek a vengeance on you that will make God striking down Lucifer seem like child’s play.
Dean: I would’ve brought cronuts, but time is short.
Dean: I made you a promise in that church. You and me, come whatever. Well, hell, if this ain’t whatever. But you gotta let me in, man, you gotta let me help.
Dean: We keep it a secret for now. Or until Sam’s well enough that he doesn’t need an angelic pacemaker. Or I find a way to tell him.
Sam: You’ve been driving around with me passed out in the passenger seat for a day?
Dean: I mean, I stopped. Let a few Japanese tourists take some pictures, nobody got too handsy.