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: An angel does not make love, an angel *is* love.
The Great Tyrant
: Tell me, my fancy, fuzzy, freak: What do you think of, when you make love to Barbarella? Pygar
: Make love? I do not understand? The Great Tyrant
: Don't be coy with me, you are in no position. If only you had one eye in your head you would see what a delight I am, my face, my body, all my things are a delight. An exquisite delight. Pygar
: What is it you want? The Great Tyrant
: I shall share my delights with you. You shall make love to me. Pygar
: An angel doesn't make love. An angel is love. The Great Tyrant
: Then you're a dead duck. - Guards! To the Mathmos with this winged fruitcake.
: [as Pygar flies away from the ruins of SoGo, with Barbarella under one arm and the Great Tyrant under the other
] Pygar! Why did you save her, after all the terrible things she did to you? Pygar
] An angel has no memory.
: You're soft and warm. We're told earth beings are cold. Barbarella
] Well... not all of us.
: Pygar! What does that say? Pygar
: "Chamber of Ultimate Solution." Barbarella
: I don't like the sound of that.