OK, so, i found a site that posts all of the inter-character dialogue that happens during the game and, while some may not care much for using Zeverim, his dialogue with Wynne is a riot to read:
Wynne: You must know that murder is wrong, I assume.
Zevran: I'm sorry... are you speaking to me?
Wynne: That is why you wish to leave your Crows. A crisis of conscience.
Zevran: Yes, that is exactly it.
Wynne: Joke if you wish, but I have the feeling that deep down you regret the life you have lived.
Zevran: It's true. I regret it all.
Wynne: Must you be such a child? Are you incapable of a single, serious conversation?
Zevran: I know. I am terrible and it makes me sad. May I rest my head in your bosom? I wish to cry.
Wynne: You can cry well away from my bosom, I'm certain
Zevran: Did I tell you I was an orphan? I never knew my mother.
Wynne: Egad. I give up.
--
Wynne: Have you changed your mind yet? Are you willing to speak seriously?
Zevran: Of your bosom? As you wish.
Wynne: (exasperated) No, I do not wish to speak of my bosom.
Zevran: But it is a marvelous bosom. I have seen women half your age who have not held up half so well. Perhaps it is a magical bosom?
Wynne: Stop... talking about my bosom.
Zevran: But I thought you wished to speak seriously?
Wynne: I do. I thought, however foolishly, that you might be willing to speak of your past.
Zevran: We could do that. There have been many bosoms in my past, though only few as fine as yours.
Wynne: Enough. I am ending this conversation.
--
Zevran: You have not asked my about my conscience for some time, my darling Wynne.
Wynne: That is correct. And I am not your "darling."
Zevran: (Sigh) So once again I am rejected, just as I am by the cruel, cruel fates. They are harsh mistresses to the elves.
Wynne: Zevran, I am old enough to be your grandmother.
Zevran: You say that like it's a bad thing.
Wynne: And what would you do with me if you had me, hmm? This is a game you play, nothing more.
Zevran: Ha, you are a cynical woman, Wynne.
Zevran: Cynical and powerful. It drives me mad with desire.
Wynne: ...
Wynne: I am going to walk away now.
--
Zevran: So let us pretend that I do, indeed, believe that murder is wrong.
Wynne: (coldly) We are not having this conversation.
Zevran: Were I to believe such a thing, what would I do with it? Feeling guilt about things one can no longer change seems to very time-consuming with little hope for actual gain.
Wynne: But you could change what you do in the future.
Zevran: (Sigh) What would that require, exactly? It seems to me that feeling guilty would take up a great deal of my time as it is.
Wynne: Perhaps you could save a life, instead? One for every life you have taken.
Zevran: That is a great many lives to save and feel guilty as well. Perhaps I could do one or the other?
Wynne: It is not a game, Zevran. You either know right from wrong or you do not.
Zevran: I... I am so confused. I think I may cry. May I lay my head in your bosom?
Wynne: (Cry of frustration) No! No! You may not!
Zevran: You are so very cruel. How is it that you do not feel guilty?
Wynne: I feel guilty for having ever spoken to you.
--
Zevran: You know, Wynne... I have a friend back in Antiva who would be very excited to meet you.
Wynne: I'm sorry?
Zevran: Salvail prefers women with experience and maturity. He says they have more substance, are more robust and flavorful.
Wynne: Does he now?
Zevran: Indeed. No need to deny it, Zevran knows a fine bird with he sees one.
Wynne: I am not a bird!
Zevran: There is no reason to deny yourself the pleasure of male companionship, after all, yes?
Zevran: You might balk now, but I assure you, Salvail is a gentleman of means, and quite handsome...
Wynne: I am going to walk away now. Calmly. Coolly. This is to save you the pain of having your brain forcibly removed through your ears.
Zevran: Tsk. This must be a Ferelden thing, I swear.
--
Zevran: You know, I have heard stories about your Circle of the Magi, my dear Wynne.
Wynne: Is that so.
Zevran: There is a Circle in my country, of course, but perhaps things are different here.
Zevran: I visited the Antivan Circle on official Crow business, once. Met a beautiful young apprentice who was very eager for a taste of the outside world...
Wynne: Please! Please, get to the point.
Zevran: All I wonder is whether the templars guard the mages here as closely as they do in Antiva.
Zevran: In Antiva, the templars watch the Circle like a jealous husband guarding the chastity of a wanton bride.
Wynne: Interesting metaphor, but yes, it is not too different in Ferelden.
Zevran: And is it also true that when the moon swells to fullness, the mages of the Circle gather at the top floor of their tower and, naked under the stars, make love to each other?
Wynne: What? No! Maker's breath...
Zevran: Oh. I found out recently that it was not true in Antiva and hoped that it would be in Ferelden. Alas.
--
Zevran: I couldn't help hearing about your... predicament. Forgive me if I am prying...
Wynne: Yes, you are.
Zevran: ... but what does it feel like being possessed by a spirit?
Wynne: Why does this interest you so?
Zevran: I simply wish to get to know those that I travel with. Is that wrong of me?
Wynne: No, of course it isn't. Well... let me see. It is hard to describe. It is comforting... I... I feel safe, loved.
Zevran: Comforted, loved, yes...
Wynne: It is like being held close, cradled... the bond is so complete that I am unable to extricate myself, nor do I wish to. Wait... why do you have that look on your face?
Zevran: Mmm, I... I am simply imagining it. Continue, please.
Wynne: And there is a constant warmth, that spreads outwards from the very center of my being, infusing my body with--
Zevran: Ooh...
Wynne: Andraste's grace, what are you thinking about now? No, I don't want to know. I feel dirty. Do not speak to me.
Wynne: You must know that murder is wrong, I assume.
Zevran: I'm sorry... are you speaking to me?
Wynne: That is why you wish to leave your Crows. A crisis of conscience.
Zevran: Yes, that is exactly it.
Wynne: Joke if you wish, but I have the feeling that deep down you regret the life you have lived.
Zevran: It's true. I regret it all.
Wynne: Must you be such a child? Are you incapable of a single, serious conversation?
Zevran: I know. I am terrible and it makes me sad. May I rest my head in your bosom? I wish to cry.
Wynne: You can cry well away from my bosom, I'm certain
Zevran: Did I tell you I was an orphan? I never knew my mother.
Wynne: Egad. I give up.
--
Wynne: Have you changed your mind yet? Are you willing to speak seriously?
Zevran: Of your bosom? As you wish.
Wynne: (exasperated) No, I do not wish to speak of my bosom.
Zevran: But it is a marvelous bosom. I have seen women half your age who have not held up half so well. Perhaps it is a magical bosom?
Wynne: Stop... talking about my bosom.
Zevran: But I thought you wished to speak seriously?
Wynne: I do. I thought, however foolishly, that you might be willing to speak of your past.
Zevran: We could do that. There have been many bosoms in my past, though only few as fine as yours.
Wynne: Enough. I am ending this conversation.
--
Zevran: You have not asked my about my conscience for some time, my darling Wynne.
Wynne: That is correct. And I am not your "darling."
Zevran: (Sigh) So once again I am rejected, just as I am by the cruel, cruel fates. They are harsh mistresses to the elves.
Wynne: Zevran, I am old enough to be your grandmother.
Zevran: You say that like it's a bad thing.
Wynne: And what would you do with me if you had me, hmm? This is a game you play, nothing more.
Zevran: Ha, you are a cynical woman, Wynne.
Zevran: Cynical and powerful. It drives me mad with desire.
Wynne: ...
Wynne: I am going to walk away now.
--
Zevran: So let us pretend that I do, indeed, believe that murder is wrong.
Wynne: (coldly) We are not having this conversation.
Zevran: Were I to believe such a thing, what would I do with it? Feeling guilt about things one can no longer change seems to very time-consuming with little hope for actual gain.
Wynne: But you could change what you do in the future.
Zevran: (Sigh) What would that require, exactly? It seems to me that feeling guilty would take up a great deal of my time as it is.
Wynne: Perhaps you could save a life, instead? One for every life you have taken.
Zevran: That is a great many lives to save and feel guilty as well. Perhaps I could do one or the other?
Wynne: It is not a game, Zevran. You either know right from wrong or you do not.
Zevran: I... I am so confused. I think I may cry. May I lay my head in your bosom?
Wynne: (Cry of frustration) No! No! You may not!
Zevran: You are so very cruel. How is it that you do not feel guilty?
Wynne: I feel guilty for having ever spoken to you.
--
Zevran: You know, Wynne... I have a friend back in Antiva who would be very excited to meet you.
Wynne: I'm sorry?
Zevran: Salvail prefers women with experience and maturity. He says they have more substance, are more robust and flavorful.
Wynne: Does he now?
Zevran: Indeed. No need to deny it, Zevran knows a fine bird with he sees one.
Wynne: I am not a bird!
Zevran: There is no reason to deny yourself the pleasure of male companionship, after all, yes?
Zevran: You might balk now, but I assure you, Salvail is a gentleman of means, and quite handsome...
Wynne: I am going to walk away now. Calmly. Coolly. This is to save you the pain of having your brain forcibly removed through your ears.
Zevran: Tsk. This must be a Ferelden thing, I swear.
--
Zevran: You know, I have heard stories about your Circle of the Magi, my dear Wynne.
Wynne: Is that so.
Zevran: There is a Circle in my country, of course, but perhaps things are different here.
Zevran: I visited the Antivan Circle on official Crow business, once. Met a beautiful young apprentice who was very eager for a taste of the outside world...
Wynne: Please! Please, get to the point.
Zevran: All I wonder is whether the templars guard the mages here as closely as they do in Antiva.
Zevran: In Antiva, the templars watch the Circle like a jealous husband guarding the chastity of a wanton bride.
Wynne: Interesting metaphor, but yes, it is not too different in Ferelden.
Zevran: And is it also true that when the moon swells to fullness, the mages of the Circle gather at the top floor of their tower and, naked under the stars, make love to each other?
Wynne: What? No! Maker's breath...
Zevran: Oh. I found out recently that it was not true in Antiva and hoped that it would be in Ferelden. Alas.
--
Zevran: I couldn't help hearing about your... predicament. Forgive me if I am prying...
Wynne: Yes, you are.
Zevran: ... but what does it feel like being possessed by a spirit?
Wynne: Why does this interest you so?
Zevran: I simply wish to get to know those that I travel with. Is that wrong of me?
Wynne: No, of course it isn't. Well... let me see. It is hard to describe. It is comforting... I... I feel safe, loved.
Zevran: Comforted, loved, yes...
Wynne: It is like being held close, cradled... the bond is so complete that I am unable to extricate myself, nor do I wish to. Wait... why do you have that look on your face?
Zevran: Mmm, I... I am simply imagining it. Continue, please.
Wynne: And there is a constant warmth, that spreads outwards from the very center of my being, infusing my body with--
Zevran: Ooh...
Wynne: Andraste's grace, what are you thinking about now? No, I don't want to know. I feel dirty. Do not speak to me.