Officer Chris Thormann: [Inside the squadroom, Munch relights the candle. Thormann, wearing a tuxedo, walks over to him] What do you do that for, every night?
John Munch: [sounding surprised and slightly annoyed] What's with you?
Officer Chris Thormann: I gotta go to a wedding.
John Munch: At this hour?
Officer Chris Thormann: It's a long story. The wedding's in Connecticut - Old Saybrook. Eva and I are driving up.
John Munch: Oh.
Officer Chris Thormann: I know you're the one who lights the candle.
John Munch: Yeah...
Officer Chris Thormann: So, why?
John Munch: [sounding rather sad] ... It's for all the ones who've been killed.
Officer Chris Thormann: [surprised by Munch's attitude, considering he is usually just a cynical jerk] Uh huh...?
John Munch: What I don't know is, who lit it when I was gone?
Officer Chris Thormann: I did.
John Munch: You?
Officer Chris Thormann: Yeah.
John Munch: Why?
Officer Chris Thormann: I figured it was important to you.
John Munch: It's gonna be our little secret, okay?
Officer Chris Thormann: Yeah, sure, okay.
Det. Beau Felton: Every night someone lights this candle by the board.
Lt. Al 'Gee' Giardello: You're a detective. Solve it.
Det. Beau Felton: A homicide detective. If the candle killed someone, I'd close the case.
Det. Stan Bolander: I know what to do with a dead body. I do *not* know what to do with a live baby.
Det. Frank Pembleton: You said summer was hell.
Det. Tim Bayliss: Well... it was.
Det. Frank Pembleton: It's all mind over matter, Bayliss.
Det. Tim Bayliss: No, no, it's more than mind over matter. I know my mind and my mind remembers my ass melting into the tops of my shoes, all right? Summer was hell.
Det. Frank Pembleton: There's no humidity in hell.
Det. Tim Bayliss: What, you do a field report?
Det. Frank Pembleton: By all reliable accounts, there's not a single drop of water to pass between heaven and hell. Hell is a dry heat.
Det. Tim Bayliss: Oh. Well, book me a flight.