Remember, word for word. Or the next time America hears about Howard Oliver, it will be to commemorate his passing


I understand your partners will be in the audience, here to witness the dismantling of the United States.

President Oliver

Hang onto your asses. We're going back to St. Louis.


Tom: Make no mistake: we're going after a target who's clearly anticipating us. If one part of this mission fails, it all fails.

If the last presidential power I have is a choice over what I wear, I'm wearing the brown suit.

President Oliver

I'm not going to die a slow death. If I'm going out, I'm going out fighting.


Did he save my life? Again? This is gettin' kinda old, isn't it?


You guys moved up to grappling?

Three [on Nyx and Four "working out"]

Scientist 1: Oh, my god. You're Rebecca.
Scientist 2: Please don't kill us.
Two: I'm not gonna kill you. I just need your help.
Three: We need your retinas.
Scientist 1: Oh, God.

The Android: Hot chocolate? ...Did you know that I possess over 20 million taste receptors?
Five: Um... do you want a sip?
The Android [immediately]: Okay!

I'd like to see his nanites repair *that*!


Johnny: You went back to Arkyn without me?
Dutch: You went rogue and got your ass arrested, remember?
Johnny: Right. Bygones. Continue.