Lt. Cmdr. Data: [asking Worf to take care of Spot] He will need to be fed once a day. He prefers feline supplement number 25.
Lieutenant Worf: I understand.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: And he will require water. And you must provide him with a sandbox - and you must talk to him. Tell him he is a pretty cat, and a good cat...
Lieutenant Worf: I will feed him.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: Perhaps that will be enough.
Commander William T. Riker: Something wrong, sir?
Capt. Picard: I just got a message from Starfleet Command.
Commander William T. Riker: Bad news?
Capt. Picard: You could say that. I've been invited to the annual Starfleet Admirals' banquet.
Commander William T. Riker: My condolences.
Capt. Picard: I've managed to avoid it for the past six years, but now it would seem that my luck has run out. I can't think of anything more tedious - fifty admirals shaking hands, making dull conversation, uninteresting food, boring speeches...
Commander William T. Riker: Can't you think of some excuse to get out of it?
Capt. Picard: After six years, Number One, I don't think I have any excuses left. Besides, I've been invited by Admiral Nakamura, the Sector Commander. He'd consider it an insult if I turned him down.
Commander William T. Riker: We could cause a diplomatic crisis. Take the ship into the Neutral Zone and attack the Romulans. That should get you out of the banquet.
Capt. Picard: I wouldn't count on it.
Lieutenant Worf: Mmm... Delicious.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: What kind of cake are you eating?
Lieutenant Worf: It is a cellular peptide cake... with mint frosting.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: Geordi, you do not seem to appreciate Ensign Tyler's enthusiasm.
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: Mm, she's enthusiastic, all right - about me.
Capt. Picard: Ensign Gates, set course for starbase 219, warp 6... engage.
[ship doesn't move]
Capt. Picard: Engage... Bridge to Engineering. Mr. La Forge, why isn't my ship moving?
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: You know, I'm curious. What were you dreaming about when we woke you up?
Lt. Cmdr. Data: I have not fully assimilated its impact. I would prefer to study the images further before discussing them.
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: Mm... Sounds like it must've been pretty strange.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: 'Strange'... is not a sufficient adjective to describe the experience.
Admiral Nakamura: You're not trying to avoid this particular engagement, are you, Picard?
Capt. Picard: No, no, certainly not. I'm... really looking forward to it.
Admiral Nakamura: Good. I'll expect you soon. Nakamura out.
Commander William T. Riker: I think he's on to you, sir.
Counselor Deanna Troi: Data, you must be the first person who's come into my office and been excited at the prospect of a new neurosis.
Lieutenant Worf: Ever since you gave Alexander that music program, he's been playing it all night. *Every* night!
Commander William T. Riker: Just wanted to broaden his horizons. Besides, he likes it.
Lieutenant Worf: It is screeching, pounding dissonance. It is not music.
Commander William T. Riker: Worf, It's better than music. It's jazz.
Commander William T. Riker: Will someone answer that damn ringing?
Dr. Sigmund Freud: Answer it.
[Picard reaches for the ringing phone on Freud's desk]
Dr. Sigmund Freud: Nein, nein, nein! Do not be so literal. When I say answer it, I mean respond to it, to zem.
Admiral Nakamura: [when the warp and impulse drive malfunctions prevent the Enterprise from reaching the Admiral's banquet] Are you expecting to have this problem fixed soon, or shall we send out a tow ship to bring you in?
Commander William T. Riker: [after yet another warp drive failure] Talk about going nowhere fast.
Counselor Deanna Troi: [citing Sigmund Freud] Dreams are the royal road to the knowledge of the mind.
Dr. Sigmund Freud: [analyzing Data's dream] Now, zee image of Counselor Troi - a female - is devoured by you, clearly indicating an unconscious desire to possess your own mother.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: But I do not have a mother.
Dr. Sigmund Freud: Do not interrupt! Ze knife, in its violent connotation, suggests a certain feeling of sexual inadequacy.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: But I have no sexual desire.
Dr. Sigmund Freud: Ach! Impotence on top of everyssing! It is all becoming clear to me now.
Capt. Picard: Mr. Data, what kind of cake is this?
Lt. Cmdr. Data: It is a cellular peptide cake.
Lieutenant Worf: [with his mouth full] With mint frosting.
Lieutenant Worf: [attempting to take care of Spot] Spot! Come here!
Dr. Sigmund Freud: Kill zem. You must kill zem all, before it's too late.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: Perhaps Dr. Freud was correct. The knife I dreamed about is the embodiment of my unconscious desire to inflict violence.
Counselor Deanna Troi: Data, even Freud said: sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
Capt. Picard: How long before we have warp power again?
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: Well, we're gonna have to manufacture a new conduit, that's at least six hours work.
Capt. Picard: [with feigned disappointment] Six hours? The banquet will be completely over by then; that's very unfortunate.
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: I could try and speed things up a bit.
Capt. Picard: Oh, no! No, uh... I wouldn't want to sacrifice the safety of the ship.
Capt. Picard: [to Data] Normally, I would wish you pleasant dreams. But in this case, bad dreams would be more helpful.
Lt. Cmdr. Data: I have often wondered what Spot dreams about. His twitching and rapid breathing would seem to suggest anxiety. But Spot has never seen a mouse, or any other form of Rodentia. He has never encountered an insect or been chased by a canine.
Dr. Sigmund Freud: [to Data] I believe you are experiencing a classic dismemberment dream. Or in your case, being a mechanical man, a dismantlement dream.