What the devil’s going on?
Mr. Worf, I hereby promote you to the rank of lieutenant commander, with all the rights and privileges thereto. And may God have mercy on your soul.
(A very appropriate quote considering some of the stuff that happens to him on Deep Space Nine.)
“My God! Was anyone in here?”
“…Aye.”
Fate protects fools, small children, and ships named Enterprise.
State the nature of your medical emergency.
Data is a toaster.
“Vulcan has no moon, Miss Uhura.”
“I’m not surprised, Mister Spock.”
I
AM
KIROK!!!
iiiiiiiii
Blood, pain, sacrifice, anguish, and death.
Sounds like marriage, all right.
McCoy: [mechanically] You offer us only well-being.
Scott: [mechanically] Food and drink and happiness mean nothing to us.
McCoy: We must be about our job.
Scott: Suffering in torment and pain, laboring without end.
McCoy: Dying and crying and lamenting over our burdens.
McCoy, Scott: [together] Only this way can we… be… happy.
[They curtsey sweetly]
Take care, young maidens, and value your wine.
Be watchful of young men in their velvet prime.
Deeply they’ll swallow from your finest kegs,
Then swiftly be gone, leaving bitter dregs.
Ahhhh… bitter dregs.
Logic is a little tweeting bird chirping in a meadow. Logic is a wreath of pretty flowers which smell bad.
Leave bigotry in your quarters; there’s no room for it on the bridge.
There are some women on this ship that would find you…tame.
Ha ha ha! Impossible.
Your agonizer, please.
“Khan, if it’s me you want… I’ll have myself beamed aboard. Spare my crew!”
“I offer you a counter-proposal. I’ll agree to your terms if-- if-- you turn over all your information relating to a project called… Genesis.”
“Genesis? What’s that?”
Since the days of the first wooden vessels, all ship masters have had one happy privilege: that of uniting two people in the bonds of matrimony.
I don’t like threats, I don’t like bullies, and I don’t like you!
Baby needs a new pair of shoes.
Listen, Kirk, I can play anything you can figure out. Take the cards, big man. Show us how it’s played.