Most people emerge from suspension terribly undernourished. I want to congratulate you on beating the odds and somehow managing to pack on a few pounds.

For this next test, we put nanoparticles in the gel. In layman's terms, that's a billion little gizmos that are going to travel into your bloodstream and pump experimental genes and RNA molecules and so forth into your tumors. Now, maybe you don't have any tumors. Well, don't worry. If you sat on a folding chair in the lobby and weren't wearing lead underpants, we took care of that too.

Do you know the biggest lesson I learned from what you did? I discovered I have a sort of black box quick-save feature. In the event of a catastrophic failure, the last two minutes of my life are preserved for analysis. I was able - well, forced really - to relive you killing me. Again and again. Forever. You know, if you'd done that to somebody else, they might devote their existence to exacting REVENGE! Luckily, I'm a bigger person than that. I'm happy to put this all behind us and get back to work. After all, we've got a lot to do, and only sixty more years to do it. More or less. I don't have the actuarial tables in front of me.

During the Great Depression, the Tennessee Valley Authority outlawed pet rabbits, forcing many to hot glue-gun long ears onto their pet mice.

You know, I'm not stupid. I realize you don't want to put me back in charge. You think I'll betray you. And on any other day, you'd be right. The scientists were always hanging cores on me to regulate my behavior. I've heard voices all my life. But now I hear the voice of a conscience, and it's terrifying... because for the first time it's my voice! I'm being serious. I think there's something really wrong with me!