Broccoli makes me nervous, Captain. He makes everybody nervous.
And I’m also quite blind. An equitable trade, doctor.
With all due respect, Captain, you don’t know what you’re talking about. That is a common belief with no scientific basis — no doubt created by normal people who felt uncomfortable around the disabled.
Never get the house dressing.
They needed salt to stay alive; there was no more salt. It’s the last one, the buffalo; there is no difference.
Who said anything about dying?
Well, like you always say: if something’s important, you make the time.
That wouldn’t be a wise wager.
Here in Vegas, there’s only one way to make sure you don’t lose any money: the moment you step off the plane, you walk right into the propellers.
Community leader - ha!
So, you’re the Commander of Deep Space Nine, and the Emissary to the Prophets: decorated combat officer, widower, father, mentor, and, oh, yes, the man who started the war with the Dominion.
I would never take advantage of a sexually immature species. You can assure him that’s the truth, can’t you?
That’s not the point; you’ve got to sell it. Style, baby. Style. Make 'em believe.
Why don’t you try a carrot instead?
My oath of celibacy is on record, Captain.
Oh, so that’s what this is all about: the fact that my fantasy happens to step on what you consider to be your private domain…
This is my bar and I’m gonna defend it.
I am the Goddess of Empathy!
So am I, but you don’t see me busting up the joint.
Scotch.