Dead or Alive Or

The Walking Dead 8×11

Gabriel: It's going to be okay. All of it. Just have some faith. We're on the right path, even if we're on the wrong road.

Morgan: He's gonna live 'cause he knows how.

Eugene: Your message is stamped "received" and very much appreciated.

Negan: Got Frankie there giving you massages... Tanya cooking. You know that gal was a chef?
Eugene: I pictured her in social sciences. Management. Maybe running a drapes factory. Will there be wine?
Negan: There will, indeed.

Eugene: You can help by taking my dinner order, relaying it to Tanya via the longrange. Eggs will do nicely. Dancing with tomatoes.
Frankie: One tomato omelet... You got it.
Eugene: No fold over. I'm talkin' a scramble. Several of them, actually. For my crew.

Eugene: ...And I'd like said repast set up over here, in the Northwest corner, which I hereby designate as this workplace's official cafeteria, break room, and motivational presentational cubby... And my brow will soon be in need of wiping.

Eugene: I think a more biblical approach for maximum fright may be in order. We could rig several medieval-style catapults, start launching undead arms, legs, torsos over their defenses, maybe heads or, you know, big piles of guts. You know, pure psych-ops. I mean, there's some really traumatic theatrics there.

Negan: Thank you. I do believe a rose just sprang out of that pile of shit.

Negan: Let's roll. Big day tomorrow.

Gregory: We run, we live. I mean... how can we win?
Maggie: Look around, Gregory. How can we lose?

Negan: We want people to join the club. Hilltop is gonna learn to toe the line one way or another, dead or alive... Or some kinda shit in between.

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