Jack: Torchwood… outside the government, beyond the police. Tracking down alien life on Earth, arming the human race against the future. The twenty-first century is when everything changes. And you gotta be ready.
Owen: Look I’ve shared cars with women before, I know what’ll happen, there’s an emergency, all raring to go, I jump in, what do I find? Seat’s in the wrong position, rear view mirrors out of line, steering wheel’s in my crotch. By time I’ve sorted all that out, aliens will’ve taken Newport!
Gwen: She’s going out with a frozen soldier from 1918.
Jack: Nobody’s perfect.
Owen: [re: the Resurrection Gauntlet.] You know, we never gave it a cool name.
Tosh: I thought we just called it “the Resurrection Gauntlet”.
Owen: *Cool* name.
Ianto: What about… the Risen Mitten?
[Jack raises his eyebrows and Owen rolls his eyes despairingly.]
Ianto: I think it’s catchy.
Eugene: The average life is full of near misses and absolute hits. Of great love and small disasters. It’s made up of banana milkshakes, loft insulation and random shoes. It’s dead ordinary and truly, truly amazing. What you’ve got to realize is, it’s all here, now. So breathe deep and swallow it whole. Because take it from me: life just whizzes by, and then, all of a sudden, it’s—
Jack: Under any other circumstances, an exuberant Roman soldier would be my idea of a perfect morning.
Jack: So, how was rehab?
John: Rehabs. Plural.
Jack: Drink, drugs, sex and …?
Jack: [laughs] You went to murder rehab?
John: I know. Ridiculous. The odd kill, who does it hurt?
Jack: [jokingly worried] You clean now?
John: [deadpan] Yeah, kicked everything, living like a priest.
Owen: I started looking into devil worship and stuff from that era, see if there’s anything about plucking out hearts, and would you believe it, there’s nothing! They ate eyeballs, they drank blood, they had sex with animals, but they did not pluck out each others’ hearts, because obviously, that would have been weird.
Jack: Oh yeah, I love that office-y feel. I always get excited in these places. To me they’re exotic. Office romances… Photocopying your butt, well maybe not your butt, although whilst we’re here why don’t we photo-
Ianto: The rift was active at these coordinates, approximately 200 feet above ground. That means this floor or the roof.
Jack: How are you, Ianto?
Ianto: All the better for having you back, Sir.
Jack: Can we drop the ‘Sir’ now? I mean, while I was away, I was thinking, maybe we could…You know, when this is all done…Dinner, a movie…?
Ianto: Are you asking me out on a date?
Ianto: [stuttering] Well, as long as it’s not in an office…Some fetishes should be kept to yourself.
Toshiko: You said we weren’t allowed to use that again.
Jack: It’s just a mind probe.
Ianto: Remember what happened last time you used it?
Jack: That was different. And that species has extremely high blood pressure.
Ianto: Oh, right, their heads must explode all the time.
Ianto: I always loved Tintin.
Owen: Yeah, well you would, wouldn’t you? And he never had a girlfriend, did he? Just the dog, so I reckon he was actually shagging the dog.
Gwen: Meanwhile, back at Torchwood…
Jack: What’s is it with you? Ever since Owen died, all you’ve done is agree with him!
Ianto: I was brought up not to speak ill of the dead. Even if they do still do most of their talking for themselves.
Owen: Last kiss for the condemned man.. Embarrassing given we haven’t been killed.. What? It’s not like I fancy you or anything!
Gwen: Ianto, hi. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—
Ianto: Doesn’t matter.
Gwen: I wouldn’t have come in if I’d known—
Jack: Always room for one more. We could have used you an hour ago for naked hide-and-seek.
Ianto: He cheats. He always cheats
Tosh: Who are you?
Jack: Nobody. I don’t exist… and for a man of my charisma, that’s quite an achievement.
Ianto: Must be that aftershave.
Jack: I never wear any.
Ianto: You smell like that naturally?
Jack: Fifty first century pheromones, you people have no idea!