Ship Captain: There’s a war on. And in it or no, I don’t plan to lose me mind, or me ship, to the likes of a jackal like you.
Mulder: You can relax. There’s no war going on. The world is at peace. There’s a little trouble over at our White House but that’ll blow over. So to speak.
Mulder: It’s okay. The war’s over. Let them take you to Germany. They make nice cars.
Mulder to the Nazis: Yeah, you’re all big men now but wait ’til you get to Russia!
Skinner: You’re out of line, Scully.
Scully: No sir, you’re out of line. I’m sorry, but I’m coming to you for help and I’ve got nowhere else to go. I would hope that after everything that we have been through that you’d at least have the courtesy and decency—and not to mention the respect—to lisen to what I have to say.
Skinner: Use your head, Scully. It’ll save your ass.
Scully: Save your own ass, sir. You’ll save your head along with it.
Scully: I want you to do me a favor. It’s not negotiable. Either you do it or I kill you, you understand?
Crewman: American, right? Saved your life, mate. Krauts don’t want no reason to bring you Yanks into the war.
Mulder: I got two words for you, buddy: Pearl Harbor.
Mulder: After Poland, Hitler’s on his way to Denmark, Holland and France, with a few stops in between. The French all but roll over on us. The Italians seize their opportunity and the Japanese come through the back door. It’s a long bloody story. Fortunately has a happy ending.
Crewman: We win?
Mulder: Yeah, you come out on the side of history through no small amount of help from us. Not much to apologize over the next 50 years except for maybe the Spice Girls.
Mulder: In case we never meet again— Mulder kisses 1940s Scully, who clocks him with a solid right. I expected a left.
Scully: I’d kiss you if you weren’t so damn ugly.
Morris (as Mulder) yelling out the window: Take a picture. It’ll last longer.
Mulder (as Morris): If I … shoot him is that murder or suicide?
Scully: Neither, if I do it first.
Mulder: I almost gave up on you.
Scully: Sorry. Check out lines were worse than rush hour one the 95. If I heard Silent Night one more time I was going to start taking hostages. What are we doing here?
Mulder: Stake out.
Scully: On Christmas Eve?
Mulder: It’s an important date.
Scully: No kidding.
Scully: Mulder, tell me you didn’t call me out here on Christmas Eve to go ghostbusting with you.
Mulder: Technically speaking, they’re called aparitions.
Scully: Mulder, call it what you want. I’ve got holiday cheer to spread.
Scully: Mulder, it looks like they were shot to death. You know what’s weird?
Scully: Mulder, she’s wearing my outfit.
Mulder: How embarrassing.
Scully: Yeah, well you know what? He’s wearing yours.
Maurice (Ed Asner): You drink?
Maurice: Take drugs?
Maurice: Get high?
Maurice: Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you? I’m in the field of mental health. I specialize in disorders and manias—related to pathological behavior as it pertains to the paranormal.
Mulder: Wow. I didn’t know such a thing existed.
Maurice: My speciality is in what I call “soul prospectors.” A cross-axial classification I’ve codified by extensive interaction with visitors like yourself. I’ve found you all tend to fall into pretty much the same category.
Mulder: And what category is that?
Maurice: Narcisstic, over-zealous, self-righteous egomaniac.
Mulder: Wow. That’s a category?
Maurice: You kindly think of yourself as “single-minded.” But you’re prone to obsessive-compulsiveness, workaholism, anti-socialism. Fertile fields for the descent into total wacko breakdown.
Maurice: You see what we’ve resorted to? Gimmicks and cheap tricks. We used to be so good at this
Lyda (Lily Tomlin): We used to have years to drive them mad. Now we have one night.
Maurice: This pop psychology approach is crap. All it does is annoy them. When’s the last time we actually haunted anyone?
Lyda: And when was the last time we had a good double murder? Not since the house was condemned.
Maurice: This is embarassing. Amateur kids stuff.
Lyda: Look, if we let our reputation slip they’re going to take us off the tourist literature. Last year no one even showed up.
Maurice: Of all days, why did you pick Christmas? Why not Halloween?
Lyda: Now who is filled with hopelessness and futility and Halloween? Christmas comes but once a year.
Lyda revealing her fatal wound: I don’t show my hole to just anyone.
Mulder disturbed: Why are you showing it to me?
Lyda: Hear that? It’s Christmas.
Maurice: One for the books.
Lyda: We almost had those two, didn’t we?
Maurice: Almost had ’em.
Lyda: Two such lonely souls.
Maurice: Can’t let our failures haunt us.
Lyda: You wonder what they were really out here looking for.
Maurice: Hard to say. People now, this is just another joyless day of the year.
Lyda: Not for us.
Maurice: No. We haven’t forgotten the meaning of Christmas.
Scully: Mulder, none of that really happened out there tonight. That was all in our heads, right?
Mulder: Must have been.
Scully: Not that, ah, my only joy in life is proving you wrong.
Mulder: When have you proved me wrong?
Scully: Well, why else would you want me out there with you?
Mulder: You didn’t want to be there? Ah, that’s, um, self-righteous and narcissistic of me to say. isn’t it?
Scully: No, um, maybe I did want to be out there with you.
Mulder: I know we said that we weren’t going to exchange gifts but I got you a little something.
Mulder: Merry Christmas.
Scully: Well I got you a little something too.
Mulder: Wayne— Mr. Weinsider. I don’t want to arrest Laura. I’m sure you’d hate like the devil for that to happen as well.
Mulder about the fiber supplements: Whatever else we find, we know everybody in this house is regular.
Scully: You’re in charge here, you know. It doesn’t have to end like this.
Bernard (Darren Burrows): Yeah it does.
Scully: When did you get a waterbed, Mulder?
Pam: Right on schedule. Poor guy. Mulder turns and stares at her as he walks past. He never did that before.
Mulder: I woke up, I opened my eyes, I was soaking wet—it’s a long story. But I had the distinct sensation that I had lived that moment before.
Scully: Well you may have. Did you do a lot of drinking in college?
Pam: Do you remember me?
Mulder: You match the description. You’re the one that gave a warning to my partner. Aren’t you? Have we met?
Pam: More times than I can count. Right here on this sidewalk. Usually you walk right by, pass a few minutes early or a few minutes later—little details, they change. But it always ends the same.
Pam: Don’t you see? We’re all in hell. I’m the only one who knows it. Something went very wrong on this day the first time around. Something got screwed up. Things didn’t end the way they were supposed to. Now it’s like a needle stuck in a groove.
Mulder: You’re saying this day repeats over and over again?
Pam: Until we get it right.
Pam: It’s you. It’s you and your partner every time. If it weren’t for you nobody would die.
Pam dying of a gunshot wound: This never happened before.
Mulder: Wow. Admit it, all you want to do is play house. Woman! Get back in here and make me a sandwich! Scully throws a rubber glove at him. Did I not make myself clear?
Byers: My name is John Fitzgerald Byers. I was named after our 35th president. And I keep having this beautiful dream. In my dream, the events of November 22, 1963, never happened. In it, my namesake was never assassinated. Other things are different too in my dream. My country is hopeful and innocent. Young again. Young in spirit. My fellow citizens trust their elected officials, never once having been betrayed by them. Our government is ttruly of the people, by the people, for the people. All my hopes for my country, for my self, all are fulfilled. I have everything a person could want. Home and family. And love. Everything that counts for anything in life. I have it. But the dream ends the same way every time. I lose it all.
Richard Langly: Why does Byers get to do the undercover?
Melvin Frohike: ‘Cause this ain’t Woodstock.
Frohike: You’re still looking for her, aren’t you? Susanne Modeski.
Byers: We met her at a convention.
Frohike: Ten years ago. In Baltimore. And we both know what happened to her. Most likely she’s dead.
Byers: No. She was a brilliant scientist. Too important to the government.
Frohike: Buddy. Either way, I know we’re both hoping she’s in a better place than Las Vegas.
Frohike about Scully: She’s gonna kick our ass.
Jimmy: Go brush you hair, Michael Bolton.
Byers: Ten years ago I saw you thrown into a car. Kidnapped, right in front of me. Did that not happen? Did I just dream all of that?
Susanne: It happened. But things got better.
Frohike: Mata Hari.
Scully: I just can’t decide who lights my fire.
Frohike: That’s it. Alright you dandies, back off! This is Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. If you so much as touch her you may be committing a federal offense. Come on.
Morris Fletcher (Michael McKean): We could have had stardust.
Scully: Maybe next time. she slaps his ass.
Frohike: I don’t understand. Why would the government want to turn Scully into a bimbo?
Susanne: I don’t understand. Why save me? Why save my life just to take it away?
Grant: You know why.
Susanne: You were done with me. You had what you wanted.
Grant: They had what they wanted. The project was over. Honest to god, it wasn’t my idea.
Susanne: All those years you spent gaining my trust. You pretended that you loved me. What could they possibly give you for that? What was it worth to you, Grant? What was your price? What did you get?
Grant: Life. They’d kill me.
Timothy Landau: Hello.
Grant: I’m so sorry Susanne.
Timothy Landau: You know the best thing about killing you three? I won’t have to dress like you anymore.
Scully on the phone with Mulder: What do you mean you didn’t call me? … Oh man. I am going to kick their asses.
Langly: You know Byers, growing old with us ain’t so bad.
Frohike: Oh, shut up, Langly. Do you really want him to kill himself?
Mulder: It doesn’t like the light.
Mulder: I abducted him. It’s a grey. It speaks to me. We communicate telepathically. He told me everything.
Scully: I can hear him.
Mulder: I know.
Scully: Oh my god.
Byers: Just so you know, we’ve launched our own investigation.
Scully: I was beginning to think that I was the only one was at all suspicious.
Frohike: We’ll find him. We’ll find him and we’ll make him pay.
Scully: Find who?
Frohike: The son of a bitch who killed Mulder.
Scully: What the hell is wrong with everybody? You guys, there are unanswered questions here. Am I the only one that’s asking them? You three of all people. You should be all over this! Not buying the party line.
Mulder: We were in the cave. Then the light came. It was a blinding, blue-white light. And they took me. I was abducted. I found myself in some kind of medical bay. It was white, featureless. It was just as the Schiffs had described it.
Scully: Mulder, the Schiffs are dead.
Mulder: No, actually, they’re not.
Scully: Mulder, their remains were discovered in a field. That’s what brought us to this case in the first place. I found your remains in that same field.
Mulder: Me? I’m here.
Scully: How did you get here?
Mulder: The aliens brought me back here.
Scully: From North Carolina direct to your apartment door? Mulder, you don’t remember getting here, do you? Neither do I.
Mulder: Doesn’t change what happened.
Scully: Mulder, why did you knock? This is your apartment.
Scully: Mulder, this is not reality. This is a hallucination. It has to be. And either I am having it or you are having it or we are having it together.
Mulder: Brought on by what?
Scully: Something that we found in that field, Mulder. Because that’s where it began.
Scully: What if we’re still there? If we’re in that cave in North Carolina. That we’re not here in this apartment right now.
Mulder: Oh. Scully.
Scully: Now Mulder, bear with me. I think this is making sense. I think that Angela and Wallace Schiff were digested by that substance that I found all over that field. That they were dissolved and then expelled up out of the ground.
Skinner: It’s a rare day when the two of you sign off on the same report.
Mulder: Scully, we never escaped. We’re still trapped underground.
Scully: Mulder, we did escape. I think you’re suffering from post-traumatic stress.
Mulder: No I’m not. This is not real. You. You’re not real.
Skinner: Mulder, I—
Mulder: I’ll prove it, Scully. He shoots Skinner