Under My Skin

While House tries to cope with his insomnia, he takes on the case of a ballerina whose skin begins to fall off after treatment following the collapse of her lungs during a rehearsal.

House: "The paperwork might be awkward. Primarily the stuff they make you fill out at the Unemployment office."

House: "Regular radical, me radical or me out of my mind radical?"

House: "I have no reason to feel guilty. It doesn't make sense, unless there's something wrong in the limbic area of my brain."

House: "I think skinless women are hot."

House: "The irrational part of my brain thinks like the rational part of yours."

House: "Don't give me the cancer voice, the overly earnest tone."

House: "Worse? Double death?"

House: "I've been popping pills for years; I've only been seeing things for days. Something changed."

House: "I can feel myself repressing all kinds of icky things."

House: "Time for a celebratory scotch... or three."

House: "See, the problem with speculation is you make a speck out of you and some guy named lation."

House: "Right, I'm being cynical. People can care because they care, not because they cheated. Theoretically true, but gonorrhea fits better."

House: "I saw guilty in him; if he's not actually guilty, I wasn't right, I was lucky."

House: "You know what would calm the nausea? Vicodin. Marijuana. A coma."

House: "Too bitter. I have plenty of bitter already."