Let's be honest. Neither one of us knows what that thing does. Just put it in the corner and I'll deal with it later.

Area and state regulations do not allow the Companion Cube to remain here, alone and companionless.

Please be advised that a noticeable taste of blood is not part of any test protocol but is an unintended side effect of the Aperture Science Material Emancipation Grid, which may, in semi-rare cases, emancipate dental fillings, crowns, tooth enamel, and teeth.

This was a triumph! I'm making a note here: Huge Success. It's hard to overstate my satisfaction. Aperture Science - we do what we must because we can. For the good of all of us, except the ones who are dead. But there's no sense crying over every mistake. You just keep on trying till you run out of cake. And the science gets done. And you make a neat gun. For the people who are still alive. I'm not even angry. I'm being most sincere right now. Even though you broke my heart and killed me. And tore me to pieces. And threw every piece into a fire. As they burned, it hurt because I was so happy for you. Now these points of data make a beautiful line. And we're out of beta; we're releasing on time. So I'm GLaD I got burned. Think of all the things we learned. For the people who are still alive. Go ahead and leave me. I think I prefer to stay inside. Maybe you'll find someone else to help you. Maybe Black Mesa. That was a joke - Ha Ha! Fat Chance! Anyway, this cake is great. It's so delicious and moist. Look at me still talking when there's science to do. When I look out there, it makes me GLaD I'm not you. I've experiments to run. There is research to be done. On the people who are still alive. And, believe me, I'm still alive! I'm doing science and I'm still alive! I feel FANTASTIC and I'm still alive! While you're dying, I'll be still alive! And when you're dead, I will be still alive! Still Alive! Still Alive...

Please note that we have added a consequence for failure. Any contact with the chamber floor will result in an unsatisfactory mark on your official testing record, followed by death.