Ripley: Ash, that transmission... Mother's deciphered part of it. It doesn't look like an S.O.S.
Ash: What is it, then?
Ripley: Well, I... It looks like a warning. I'm gonna go out after them.
Ash: What's the point? I mean by the, the time it takes to get there, you'll... They'll know if it's a warning or not, yes?
Ripley: Ash, can you hear me? Ash!
Ash: Yes, I can hear you.
Ripley: What was your special order?
Ash: You read it. I thought it was clear.
Ripley: What was it?
Ash: Bring back lifeform: Priority One. All other priorities rescinded.
Parker: The damn Company! What about our lives, you son of a bitch?
Ash: I repeat: all other priorities are rescinded.
Ripley: How do we kill it, Ash? There's got to be a way of killing it. How...how do we do it?
Ash: You can't.
Parker: That's bullshit!
Ash: You still don't understand what you're dealing with, do you? The perfect organism. Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility.
Lambert: You admire it.
Ash: I admire its purity: survival unclouded by conscience, remorse or delusions of morality.
Parker: Look, I've heard enough of this and I'm asking you to pull the plug.
Ash: Last word.
Ripley: What?
Ash: I can't lie to you about your chances, but you have my sympathies.
Napoleon Bonaparte: I am Napoleon.
Nicole 'Pumpkin' Truchaut: No, you're not Napoleon! I hate Napoleon! He's filled France with widows and orphans! He took my husband! I won't let him take you.
Napoleon Bonaparte: They've changed my battlefield.
Napoleon Bonaparte: Six years of English cooking... six years of staring at these dreary walls... and at your gloomy face. You're quite ugly, did you know that? I haven't had the heart to tell you.
Louis Marchand: Yes, sire.
Nicole 'Pumpkin' Truchaut: I bought it from a lawyer who went bankrupt.
Napoleon Bonaparte: Well, that's something. I didn't know that was possible.
Father Vito Cornelius: You're a monster, Zorg.
Zorg: I know.
Sir William Gull: No man amongst you is fit to judge the mighty art that I have wrought. Your rituals are empty oaths you neither understand, nor live by. The Great Architect speaks to me. He is the balance where my deeds are weighed and judged, not you.
Sir William Gull: One day men will look back and say that I gave birth to the Twentieth century.
Capitaine Phillippe D'Arnot: This is not the world John. Just the edge of it.
Tom Frost: No American should find himself in a foreign land without a pistol.
Skinner: The soup. Where is the soup? Out of my way. Move it, garbage boy! You are COOKING? HOW DARE YOU COOK in my kitchen! Where do you get the gall to even attempt something so monumentally idiotic? I should have you drawn and quartered! I'll do it! I think the law is on my side! Larousse, draw and quarter this man - after you put him in the duck press to squeeze the fat out of his head!
Skinner: Toasting your success, eh, Linguini? Good for you.
Linguini: Oh, I just took it to be polite. I don't really drink, you know.
Skinner: Of course you don't. I wouldn't either if I was drinking that. But you would have to be an idiot of elephantine proportions not to appreciate this '61 Château Latour, and you, Monsieur Linguini, are no idiot. Let us toast your non-idiocy!
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