Musing of a Cigarette Smoking Man

“For nothing can seem foul to those that win.”

—Henry IV, Pt. 1 Act 5, Sc. 1

Scully: Now tell us what you’re so close to.
Melvin Frohike (Tom Braidwood): Not a what. A who. If you find the right starting point and follow it, not even the secrets of the darkest of men are safe.
Mulder: Cancer Man? What’d you find?
Frohike: Possibly everything. Even his background. Who he is. And who he wants to be.

Hoover’s Aide: Should we advise the President?
Cigarette Smoking Man (William B. Davis): I work very hard to keep any president from knowing I exist.

Lydon: I’m working on next month’s Oscar nominations. Any preference?
CSM: I couldn’t care less. What I don’t want to see is the Bills winning the Super Bowl. As long as I’m alive, that doesn’t happen.
Jones: Could be tough, sir. Buffalo wants it bad.
CSM: So did the Soviets in ’80.
Jones: What are you saying you rigged the Olympic hockey game?
CSM: What’s the matter? Don’t you believe in miracles?

Matlock(?): One thing internally, sir. That “spooky” kid who talked his way into opening the X-Files. Feels like trouble.
CSM: He’s mine to keep an eye on. {sees the text alert} Gorbachev has just resigned.
Matlock(?): There’s no more enemies.

CSM: How many historic events have only the two of us witnessed together, Ronald? How often did we make or change history? And our names can never grace any pages of record. No monument will ever bear our image. And yet once again tonight, the curse of human history will be set by two unknown men standing in the shadows.

CSM: Life is like a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for. Unreturnable, because all you ever get back is another box of chocolates. So you’re stuck with this undefinable whipped mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there’s nothing left to eat.