
Lord Bowler: Uh oh. You hit the sheriff.
Brisco County Jr.: Yeah, but I did not hit the deputy.

Roger Smith: People are not ruled by their memories.

Ambassador Londo Mollari: But this - this, this, this is like being nibbled to death by... what are those Earth creatures called? Feathers, long bill, webbed feet... go 'quack'.
Ambassador Vir Cotto: Cats.
Ambassador Londo Mollari: Cats. Being nibbled to death by cats.

Mystery of a Thousand Moons - S1-E18
Obi-Wan: Very impressive. You just destroyed seventeen defenseless battle droids without suffering a scratch.
[Another battle droid falls apart.]
Anakin: Eighteen, actually.

Jean-Luc Picard: The Federation does not get to decide if a species lives or dies!
Admiral Kirsten Clancy: Yes we do. We absolutely do. (00:23:35)

Slartibartfast: I'd much rather be happy than right, any day.
Arthur Dent: And are you?
Slartibartfast: No. That's where it all breaks down, of course.

Andros: Let's Rocket.

Terry McGinnis: Look, if you had any proof they were going to do something, it would be different. But I'm not going to change my plans because of a hunch.
Bruce Wayne: Batman would.
Terry McGinnis: Hey, I put my life on the line all the time. One night isn't going to make any difference.
Bruce Wayne: One night always makes the difference.

Dexter: Omlette du fromage.

Cindy: Origami - the ancient art of Japanese paper folding. I will be making the most difficult of all origami sculptures - a snow monkey...
Jimmy: Actually, paper folding originated in China...
Cindy: ...riding a flying dragon...
Jimmy: ...in the second century CE...
Cindy: ...while drinking tea...
Jimmy: ...and was brought to Japan...
Cindy: ...on a ladder...
Jimmy: ...in the sixth century!
Cindy: ...in December!
Miss Fowl: Cindy, I didn't know you and Jimmy were doing your report together!

Narrator: Ready for a story about superheroes? Ugh, more TV superheroes. Just what the world needs. Be honest, have you hung yourselves yet? Or, what if I told you this was actually a story about super-zeroes? Losers. Achingly pathetic meta-human goose eggs. How about it? Ready to feel better about your own miserable lives for the next hour or so? Follow me. Our story begins, as such stories do, with a visit to a Nazi. I'm sorry. Cobbler.

Thomas Veil: Soon, all my memories will be gone. Without ceasing to breathe, I will cease to exist.