My world’s history has recorded that conquerors often arrived with the words, We Are Your Friends.
Another glorious chapter of Klingon history. Tell me, do they still sing songs of the Great Tribble Hunt?
We never did, Lieutenant; Q suspended time.
I will never make friends with bugs.
Oh come, Riker; you’re beginning to sound like your Captain.
In the hills, by the dam.
We’ve found something else: a novel by Todd Matthews, entitled “Hotel Royale” — which is the name of this structure.
“‘It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.’ Message, Spock?”
“None that I’m conscious of. Except, of course, happy birthday. Surely, the best of times.”
“We know how it really ends: ‘a crazy old man’.”
Be useful in a poker match.
Time to pluck a pigeon.
Captain — with all due respect — perhaps it would be better if you choose another to serve as your First Officer.
Frankly, sir, I don’t believe in your ability to command this ship.
I’ve, I’ve never felt this way before. At odds with the ship. I sat there and watched my ship perform for a mass of circuits and relays, and felt useless.
Pinocchio is broken. Its strings have been cut.
I was betrayed, and treated barbarically.
Belay that phaser order!
It’s the only way to ensure the safety of the Enterprise.
Keep up the act.
Don’t you give me that sarcastic Vulcan salute!