There is an explanation for this, you know.Ash
Get out of the room!Parker
Brett: This is the worst shit I've ever seen, man.
Parker: What you say? You got any biscuits over there?
Ripley: Here's some cornbread.
Parker: Cornbread. Yeah.
Lambert: I am cold.
Parker: Still with us, Brett?
Kane: Oh, I feel dead.
Parker: Anybody ever tell you you look dead, man?
Ripley: Final report of the commercial starship Nostromo, third officer reporting. The other members of the crew, Kane, Lambert, Parker, Brett, Ash and Captain Dallas, are dead. Cargo and ship destroyed. I should reach the frontier in about six weeks. With a little luck, the network will pick me up. This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off.
Ripley: Come on, cat.
Ripley: Ash, can you hear me? Ash?
Ash: [speaking in an electronic, distorted voice] Yes, I can hear you.
Ripley: What was your special order?
Ash: You read it. I thought it was clear.
Ripley: What was it?
Ash: Bring back life form. Priority One. All other priorities rescinded.
Parker: The damn company. What about our lives, you son of a bitch?
Ash: I repeat, all other priorities are rescinded.
Ripley: How do we kill it Ash? There's gotta be a way of killing it. How? How do we do it?
Ash: You can't.
Parker: That's bullshit.
Ash: You still don't understand what you're dealing with, do you? Perfect organism. Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility.
Lambert: You admire it.
Ash: I admire its purity. A survivor... unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of morality.
Parker: Look, I am... I've heard enough of this, and I'm asking you to pull the plug.
Ash: [Ripley goes to disconnect Ash, who interrupts] Last word.
Ash: I can't lie to you about your chances, but... you have my sympathies.
Ripley: When we throw the switches, how long before the ship blows?
Parker: Ten minutes.
Ripley: No bullshit?
Parker: We ain't outta here in ten minutes, we won't need no rocket to fly through space.
Ripley: Whenever he says *anything* you say "right," Brett, you know that?
Ripley: Parker, what do you think? Your staff just follows you around and says "right". Just like a regular parrot.
Parker: Yeah, shape up. What are you some kind of parrot?
Lambert: I can't see a goddamn thing.
Kane: Quit griping.
Lambert: I like griping.
Dallas: I haven't seen anything like that except, uh, molecular acid.
Brett: It must be using it for blood.
Parker: It's got a wonderful defense mechanism. You don't dare kill it.
It's a robot. Ash is a god damn robot.Parker
Big things have small beginnings.David
Charlie Holloway: These are images of archaeological digs all over the Earth: ancient civilizations that shared no contact. And yet, the same pictogram on every last one of them.
Fifield: A star map?
Elizabeth Shaw: No, an invitation.
Fifield: From whom?