John: I'm totally dependent on your technology now.
D'Argo: It's not my technology, it's Leviathan technology.
John: I don't give a rat's ass what you want to call it. It's your end of the universe, it's your technology. Sure as hell ain't mine.
Zhaan: John, is something wrong?
John: Yep. I'm fed up.
Zhaan: Fed up?
John: I'm sorry, is this gonna be another translator microbe hiccup? Oh, John, you're fed up, does that mean you've had too many food cubes today? It was cute. It was vaguely, vaguely amusing the first six billion times.
John: You're gonna help? Is that it? Maybe. Before, when you were a priest? But guess what. You resigned.
Aeryn: Crichton, I don't understand what you're talking about.
John: I'm going for a drive, I'm hitting the strip, I'm going cruising.
John: I'm getting some space, and I'm not talking about the space outside the ship.
John: That's it! You're so damn smart. There's no time for stupid human anything. And I'm sick of it, Aeryn. I'm sick of Napoleon the 14th, I'm sick of Blue, I'm sick of Tentacle Boy. I'm sick of you. I'm sick of this whole turd burp end of the universe.
John: You guys are bugging out on me?
John: You share with me?
Lashala: On Acquara, the offering of food by a man to a woman signals his fondness for her.
John: How do you take it? Broiled or barbecued?
Zhaan: Whatever happened to John is his own doing. He shouldn't have left Moya in a time of crisis.
D'Argo: We drove him to it. All of us.
D'Argo: My hearts are private places.
Aeryn: There will come a time when we might have to acknowledge that Crichton has met his destiny, and we are just not part of it.
D'Argo: Then I will wait for you to tell me when we abandon the search. When we abandon Crichton.
Aeryn: You were a lot more agreeable as a peace-loving priest.
Zhaan: My personal decision to put aside the spiritual seek is none of your business. I warn you fairly, Aeryn, do not go there.
D'Argo: You smell like dren. You look like dren.
John: Get the hell away from me.
Lashala: That's all right. She knows nothing of my heart and less of my sleeping habits. She should only get some of her own.
Rygel: This isn't the happy reunion I'd planned on!
D'Argo: You really think we abandoned you when we spent the last quarter of a cycle looking for you?
Rygel: A lapse of sound judgment I regret for the rest of my life.
John: Yep. You just might.
Rygel: We're stuck here? No power, no comforts, no defenses... Sounds like paradise.
Zhaan: What we need to do is isolate the most highly developed organisms.
Aeryn: That rules out the three we're looking for.
John: Since I left home, I've been hunted, beaten, locked up, Shang-haied, shot at... I've had alien creatures in my face, up my noise, inside my brain, down my pants... This is the first time, the first place, where I've felt peace.
Rygel: What the frell is going on?
John: I think they think you're God.
Rygel: No, not a god, but a sovreign.
Aeryn: I can't believe this, but I need Crichton.
D'Argo: How did you know about the sarcred text?
Rygel: Where were you brought up? Every religion's got one.
John: Hakuna Matata, Masata.
John: The slug who would be king.
John: Guess I got some apologies to make on the ship.
D'Argo: Was it worth the trouble, human?
John: What trouble?
Back