Mal: Whoa, hey. Flesh. Um... Saffron... i-it-it ain't a question of pleasing me. It's more a question of what's... um... of what's morally right.
Saffron: I do know my Bible sir. "On the night of their betrothal, the wife shall open to the man as the furrow to the plow and he shall work in her, in and again 'till she brings him to his fall and rest him then upon the sweat of her breast."
Mal: Whoa, good Bible.
Wash: Every planet has it's own weird customs. About a year before we met, I spent six weeks on a moon where the principle form of recreation was juggling geese. My hand to God.
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