Beatrice: I'll tell you something right now; I know Edgar and that wasn't Edgar. It's like something was wearing Edgar like a suit. An Edgar suit.
Kay: Imagine a giant cockroach with unlimited strength, a massive inferiority complex and a really short temper is tear assing around Manhattan in a brand new Edgar-suit. That sound like fun?
Large cop: If you were half the man I am... [Jay looks pointedly at policeman's stomach] I am half the man you are!
Kay: Human thought is so primitive it's looked upon as an infectious disease in some of the better galaxies. Kind of makes you proud, doesn't it?
Edgar: I go out. I work my butt off to make a living. All I want is to come home to a nice clean house with a nice fat steak on the table. But instead I get this. It looks like poison. Don't you take that away! I'm eating that, damn it! It is poison isn't it!? I swear to God, I would not be surprised if it was.
Jay: You know what the difference is between you and me? I make this look good.
Kay: All right, kid. Here's the deal. At any given time, there are around fifteen hundred aliens on the planet. Most of them right here, in Manhattan. And, most of them are decent enough. They're just trying to make a living.
Jay: Cab drivers.
Kay: No, not as many as you think. Humans, for the most part, don't have a clue. They don't want one or need one neither. They're happy. They think they got a good bead on things.
Jay: Why the big secret? People are smart. They can handle it.
Kay: A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it. Fifteen hundred years ago, everybody KNEW the Earth was the center of the universe. Five hundred years ago, everybody KNEW the Earth was flat, and 15 minutes ago, you knew that people were alone on this planet. Imagine what you'll know tomorrow.
Jay: What's the catch?
Kay: Catch? Catch is you will sever every human contact. Nobody will ever know you exist anywhere, ever.
Zed: You'll dress only in attire specially sanctioned by MIB Special Services. You'll conform to the identity we give you, eat where we tell you, live where we tell you. From now on, you'll have no identifying marks of any kind. You'll not stand out in any way. Your entire image is crafted to leave no lasting memory with anyone you encounter. You're a rumor, recognizable only as déjà vu and dismissed just as quickly. You don't exist. You were never even born. Anonymity is your name, silence your native tongue. You're no longer part of the System. You are above the System. Over it. Beyond it. We're "them." We're "they." We are the Men in Black.
J: All right, I'm in. 'Cause, look, there's some next-level shit going on around here, and I'm with that. But, before y'all get to beaming me up, there's a couple things I want you to understand. First off, you chose me. So you recognize the skills. And I don't want nobody calling me "Son", or "Kid", or "Sport", or nothing like that, cool?
K: Cool, whatever you say, Slick, but I need to tell you something about all your skills. As of right now, they mean precisely dick.