[About oxygen.] Robby: I rarely use it myself, sir. It promotes rust.
[To Altaira.] Commander John J. Adams: I'm in command of 18 competitively selected super-fit physical specimens with an average age of 24.6 who have been locked up in hyperspace for 378 days. It would have served you right if he... they... oh go on, get out of here before I have you run out of the area under guard - and then I'll put more guards on the guards. Doc Ostrow: The total potential here must be nothing less than astronomical. Dr. Edward Morbius: Nothing less. The number 10 raised almost literally to the power of infinity. Dr. Edward Morbius: The fool, the meddling idiot. As though his ape's brain could contain the secrets of the Krell. Dr. Edward Morbius: Yes, a single machine, a cube 20 miles on each side.
[Instructing Robby the robot on making a new dress.] Altaira Morbius: But it must be different - absolutely nothing must show - below, above or through. Robby: Radiation-proof? Altaira Morbius: No, just eye-proof. Dr. Edward Morbius: Do you understand the mechanism, Robby? Robby: Yes, Morbius. A simple blaster. Cookie: Another one of them new worlds. No beer, no women, no pool parlors, nothin'. Nothin' to do but throw rocks at tin cans, and we gotta bring our own tin cans. Doc Ostrow: Monsters. Monsters from the id. Robby: Quiet please. I am analyzing.
[Robby the Robot has been asked to duplicate whiskey.] Robby: Would 60 gallons be sufficient? Robby: Sorry miss, I was giving myself an oil-job. Dr. Edward Morbius: In times long past, this planet was the home of a mighty, noble race of beings who called themselves the Krel. Ethically and technologically they were a million years ahead of humankind, for in unlocking the meaning of nature they had conquered even their baser selves, and when in the course of eons they had abolished sickness and insanity, crime and all injustice, they turned, still in high benevolence, upwards towards space. Then, having reached the heights, this all-but-divine race disappeared in a single night, and nothing was preserved above ground. Dr. Edward Morbius: My evil self is at the door, and I have no power to stop it.
[To Altaira] Commander John J. Adams: Alta, about a million years from now the human race will have crawled up to where the Krell stood in their great moment of triumph and tragedy. And your father's name will shine again like a beacon in the galaxy. It's true, it will remind us that we are, after all, not God.
[Lt. Farman offers the brilliant but innocent Altaira some sugar for her coffee.] Altaira: But you keep helping me. After all, you're not Robby. Lt. Farman: [chuckles] I wouldn't mind being like Robby in certain ways. Uh, that's only in *certain* ways, of course. Altaira: I can see that was probably very clever, but I don't seem to understand it. Altaira Morbius: Robbie, I must have a new dress, right away. Robbie the Robot: Again? Robby the Robot: If you do not speak English, I am at your disposal with 187 other languages along with their various dialects and sub-tongues.
[While showing the captain a plaster cast of a monster foot print] Doc: Anywhere in the galaxy this is a nightmare. Quinn: I'll bet any quantum mechanic in the service would give the rest of his life to fool around with this gadget.