Francis: Otto.
Otto: Oh, are you still here? I thought you quit.
Francis: You were right. This is my fault. For some reason, I've been sabotaging everything lately. Knowing that I've been here for a year, it's like people are depending on me now. And I know that at some point, I'm going to let them down.
Otto: Don't be ridiculous. [groans] No one... expects you to be perfect. If I wanted perfection I would have hired a robot or a Swede, but I hired you, Francis, because you're smart, you're a hard worker, and when you make a mistake, you fix it. If falling down a well every once in a while is the price I must pay to have you, so be it.
Francis: Thanks, Otto.

Hal: Malcolm. Malcolm, I need to talk to you. You read all those science magazines. What can you tell me about the meaning of dreams?
Malcolm: Dreams? Well, some people think they express your subconscious wishes...
Hal: No, no, no, no, no. The other kind of dreams, prophetic ones that predict the future. I had one. About a giant slot machine.
Malcolm: That's insane, Dad.
Hal: Oh, it was so vivid. There, there was this mysterious stain on my shirt and- and a balloon, and then this music and then I hit this gigantic jackpot. It was a sign, son. I know it. It's my destiny.
Malcolm: Dad. You have weird dreams all the time. Like the singing trash cans.
Hal: I never said that was prophetic. I said it was cool.

Reese: Well? What did they think of Gordo?
Dewey: They called him a monster. Then they called me a crime against nature. Maybe it was the other way around. All I remember is, I was crying.