Lister: Sometimes, I think it's cruel giving machines a personality. My mate Petersen once bought a pair of shoes with Artificial Intelligence. 'Smart Shoes' they were called. It was a neat idea. No matter how blind drunk you were, they could always get you home. But he got rattled one night in Oslo and woke up the next morning in Burma. You see, his shoes got bored going from his local to his flat. They wanted to see the world, you know. He had a hell of a job getting rid of them. No matter who he sold them to, they'd show up again the next day. He tried to shut them out, but they just kicked the door down.
Rimmer: Is this true?
Lister: Yeah. The last thing I heard, they sort of... robbed a car and drove it into a canal. They couldn't steer, you see.
Lister: Yeah. Petersen was really, really blown away about it. He went to see a priest. The priest told him... he said it was alright and all that, when shoes are happy that they'd get into heaven. You see, it turns out shoes have 'soles'.
Rimmer: Ah, what a sad story. Wait a minute.
[Thinks for a minute]
Rimmer: How did they open the car door?
Holly: We are talking jape of the decade. We are talking April, May, June, July and August fool. That's right. I am Queeg.
Holly: Queeg never existed. It was me all along.
Holly: Wheeze of the week, mate.
The Cat: It was a joke?
Holly: Going round in circles for 14 months. Getting my information from the Junior Color Encyclopedia of Space. The respect you have for me is awesome, innit?
Lister: So you mean you staged the whole thing?
Holly: [in Queeg's voice] That's right, suckers.
[in his voice]
Holly: And the moral of the story is, "Appreciate what you've got", because basically I'm fantastic.
Holly: Our deepest fear is going space crazy through loneliness. The only thing that helps me keep my slender grip on reality is the friendship I have with my collection of singing potatoes.
Rimmer: You're about as much use as a condom machine in the Vatican.
Lister: Hang on. You can't do this. Holly's got an I.Q. of 6,000.
Holly: Yeah. Right on.
Queeg: Is that what he told you?
Lister: Well what is it, then?
Queeg: It has a six in it, but it's not 6,000.
The Cat: What is it?
Holly: Six? Do me a lemon. That's a poor I.Q. for a glass of water.
Holly: What's happening, dudes?
Lister: Bog all.
Holly: Wait a minute. I've forgotten what I was gonna say.
Rimmer: Well, it can't have been that important then, can it?
[the ship is hit by a meteor, forcing the crew onto the floor]
Holly: Yeah. That's it."Look out, a meteor is about to hit the ship". I knew it'd come back to me.
The Cat: Thanks for the warning.
[Holly challenges Queeg to a match to fight for the control of Red Dwarf]
Holly: Name me a game.
Holly: It can be anything. Any game at all.
Holly: Draughts, poker, any game at all.
Holly: Subbuteo, Snakes and Ladders, you name it.
Holly: Monopoly, maybe? I'll let you go first.
Holly: So you like a bit of chess then, do you?
Rimmer: Look, Lister, no point feeling sorry about Holly. It's a kindness. Like a blind old incontinent sheepdog, he's had his day. Take him out to the barn with a double-barreled shot-gun and blow the mother away. And I'm only saying that because I'm so fond of him.
Lister: Well, how come Holly knows all the answers to science and space and all that when we ask him?
Queeg: He consults a book.
Holly: What a slimeball!
Queeg: He gets all his answers on astronomy, phenomenology and physics from a single reference book.
Rimmer: What's the book?
Queeg: The Junior Encyclopedia of Space. It's the only one he can find which has pictures.