I’m from Iowa. I only work in outer space.
And the liver that was about to explode in my face?
GILLIAN: Do you trust me?
KIRK: Implicitly.
GILLIAN: Good. Large mushroom, pepperoni with extra onions and a Michelob, please.
WAITER: Great choice, …and you, sir?
KIRK: Make that two.
…and him? The one I saw before, with the head?
Joke’s on you, man! I love the brig! I’m going to my favorite place!
I hate Vulcans: I hate the logic; I hate the arrogance.
“I enter into the record this excerpt from the captain’s personal log.”
“I’ve never trusted Klingons. And I never will. I’ve never been able to forgive them for the death of my boy.”
[riotous outrage from the Klingons]
“Are those your words?”
“Those words were spoken by me.”
Oh, hell, just forget all that and give me a martini, straight up — with, uh, two olives, for the vitamins.
All ships ready for warp.
If this works, you’ll be joining an elite group of pilots: Orville Wright, Neil Armstrong, Zefram Cochrane … and Tom Paris.
The sooner our happiness together begins, the longer it will last.
I have a new love, Jean-Luc. And you can’t keep killing all my lovers; that simply has to stop.
Photon Torpedo, isn’t that the universal greeting when communications are down.
Or the universal greeting when you don’t like someone…
Please let me target their warp core! I’ve been very good this week!
MARINER: At least the replicator still works. Computer, iced tea with a splash of lemonade, cold.
REPLICATOR: Black licorice, dry.
MARINER: Great. The least nutritious food that tastes the most like poison.
And you killed her children, thousands of them.
Are you saying that I caused the anomaly — and that the anomaly somehow disrupted the beginnings of life on Earth?
May I inquire as to the nature of our diplomatic mission?
Standing around by the Alamo. Walking around in San Antonio. Looking around for a new kind of love.
TENDI: Ah! I’ve been prepping so much, I feel like my brain’s going to explode with science.
RUTHERFORD: Mmm. That’s how I want to go.