Improperly Propagated

"Pár" oblíbenejch hlášek z Prison Breaku. =P

Sucre: What’s another word for love?
Michael: What’s the context?
Sucre: Oh, you know... yeah, "I love you so much, I aint never knockin’ over a liquor store again" context.

Michael: The Taj... it would be a shame for the eighth wonder of the modern world to collapse because the stress is improperly propagated.
Pope: Improperly propagated?
Michael: Improperly propagated.

Lincoln: Getting outside these walls is just the beginning. You're gonna need money.
Michael: I'll have it.
Lincoln: And people on the outside. People that can help you disappear.
Michael: I've already got them. They just don't know it yet.

Haywire: I got a neuroanatomic lesion affecting my reticular activating system.
Michael: What does that mean?
Haywire: It means I don't sleep... at all.

Sara: This isn't nothing Michael, I need you to tell me what happened.
Michael: Don't make me lie to you.

John Abruzzi: So what's the problem?
Michael: You're looking at it.
John Abruzzi: Haywire?
Michael: Yep. That's my new cellmate.
John Abruzzi: That's a problem.

Michael: It’s just math.
Sucre: What if your math is wrong?
Michael: You’ll drill into one of a dozen gas lines behind the wall. There’ll be an explosion and we’ll be burned alive.
Sucre: But you’re good at math, right?

John Abruzzi: You're drilling holes with an eggbeater?
Sucre: I know. Crazy, huh? It's called the "Hooker Law." It says that if you poke exact right holes in something big and strong, it gets very weak.

Tweener: That's slavery, yo!
Michael: That's prison, yo.

C-Note: Concrete is my specialty. Can you dig it?

John Abruzzi: Sgt. Sodomy, you're up next!

T-Bag: Hey John, you know actually, about Jesus, [slits Abruzzi's throat] say hi to him for me, will ya?

Agent Paul Kellerman: ...You named me? Right there, along with the rest of them?
Agent Hale: I got scared, man, that's all it was.
Agent Paul Kellerman: [Cocks gun and waves it at Hale] *You named me, Danny?*
Agent Hale: [cowering] Allison's due in one month.
Agent Hale: Paul, you and me...we....we've been friends since the Academy...
Agent Paul Kellerman: You named me.

Lincoln: You letting me win, Michael?
Michael: No...
Lincoln: Mm hmm, show me your cards.
Michael: I'm not going to show you my cards.
Lincoln: Show me your cards!
Michael: I'm not going to show you my cards!
Lincoln: Give me your cards!
[grabs the cards out of Michael's hand and slaps them on the table]
Michael: [sheepishly] Gin.
Lincoln: Funny that...

Michael: Haywire, do I look even vaguely familiar to you?
Haywire: [pauses] Are you the guy who stole my toothpaste?

Sara: What do you want from me Michael?
Michael: Sara... I need you to do something for me.
Sara: What?
Michael: Wait for me... it won't always be like this. In this room, in this place.

Sucre: What do we do now?
Michael: We run.