"You ought to try reading your shirt sometime, Lister. It's probably a novel by Victor Hugo."

"They're my things, Lister. Would you steal verruca cream from a man with no feet?"

Rimmer: "After intensive investigation, comma, of the markings on the alien pod, comma, it has become clear, comma, to me, comma, that we are dealing, comma, with a species of awesome intellect, colon." Holly: "Good. Perhaps they might be able to give you a hand with your punctuation."

"So you are saying, Lister, that you are an inter-gallactic pus-filled coldsore? At last, Lister! We agree on something."

"Imagine making love to a woman."

"And I didn't ask to be killed. Life's a bitch, now smeg off. I'm busy."

"Incredible! A stupendous moment in my own personal history. The perfectly preserved remains of a Quagaar warrior!"

"It's a garbage pod! It's a smegging garbage pod!"