Jack Harper: How can man die better: than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods.
Sally: I created you, Jack. I am your god.
Jack Harper: Fuck you, Sally.
Sally: There's been a pattern of insubordinate behavior recently.
Jack Harper: Yeah. I feel bad about that.
Jack Harper: How can a man die better...
Sally: You don't have to die, Jack. She doesn't have to die.
Jack Harper: Everybody dies, Sally. The thing is, to die well.
Jack Harper: 60 years ago, Earth was attacked. We won the war, but they destroyed half the planet. Everyone's been evacuated. Nothing human remains. We're here for drone repair. We're the "mop-up crew."
Jack Harper: No, it's just a machine, I'm the weapon.
Jack Harper: I can't shake the feeling, that earth, inspite all that's happened, earth is still my home.
Jack Harper: Is it possible to miss a place you've never been? To mourn a time you never lived?
Jack Harper: I know you, but we've never met. I'm with you and I don't know your name. I know I'm dreaming, but it feels like more than that. It feels like a memory. How can that be?
Jack Harper: The last Super Bowl was played right here.
Victoria: Please don't tell me it was a classic.
Jack Harper: Classic game. 80,000 people on their feet. Seconds left on the clock. So Hubie throws a Hail Mary. Touchdown!
Malcolm Beech: I've been watching you, Jack. You're curious. What are you looking for in those books? Do they bring back old memories? Don't ask too many questions. They lied to you. It's time to learn the truth.
Victoria: Only two more weeks, Jack, and we can finally leave and join the others. Please, don't take any chances.
