You are wrong! Jackson Roykirk, your creator, is dead. You have mistaken me for him. You are in error. You did not discover your mistake. You have made two errors. You are flawed and imperfect and you have not corrected by sterilisation. You have made three errors.
And he piled upon the whale’s white hump, the sum of all the rage and hate felt by his whole race. If his chest had been a cannon, he would have shot his heart upon it.
…and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope. Four errors!
I’ll come in again.
On screen.
You can do that?
Scotty: Hello, computer.
End program.
“I am TIRED!!”
“Triacas? That shithole?!?”*
*Somewhat paraphrased. 
…how do you feel? …how do you feel?
Quadrotriticale is not “wheat”! :rolleyes:
“It was a Russian inwention!”
“You’re a very … beautiful woman!”
Drink Slug-o-Cola! The slimiest cola in the galaxy!
Drink Slug-o-Cola, and keep your teeth that lovely shade of green.
For the World is hollow, and I have touched the sky!
You got nothin’. You mind your place, mister, or you’ll… you’ll be wearin’ concrete galoshes.
“You see, their young enter through the ears, and wrap themselves around the cerebral cortex. This has the effect of rendering the person extremely suceptible to…suggesstion. As they…grow…comes madness. Death.”
I do not approve. I understand.
“I ain’t never been arrested in my life!”
“Captain! I’m frightened!”
SPOCK: I regret not having learned more about this Balok. In some ways, he was reminiscent of my father.
SCOTTY: Then may heaven have helped your mother!