Lore is no longer functioning. I am attempting to fill a silent moment with non-relevant conversation. Captain - I am seeking advice in how to... take my Worf, please. I am an android. The unidirectional nature of the time continuum makes that an unlikely possibility. But there is nothing more... uniquely human. Course laid in, sir. It means that you have achieved in disgrace what I have always aspired to be. That story is generally considered to be apocryphal. One is my name. The other is not.
I could be chasing an untamed ornithoid without cause. But I am not capable of love. It would appear that my program designed to predict emotional responses needs... adjustment. That was the stun setting. I consider Geordi to be my best friend. One of his adages is that once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. There may be a correlation between humor and sex. The need for more research is clearly indicated. Captain, the aliens have disappeared. So the difficulty in attaining such complex positioning in zero gravity environment, coupled with the adverse effects it would have on the psychological wellbeing of the average human male, is what makes this anecdote so amusing.
Lore told me the colonists became envious of him because you made him "so completely human." I am, perhaps, not nearly so human as I aspire to become. My hair does not require trimming, you lunkhead. I will always be puzzled by the human predilection for piloting vehicles at unsafe velocities. But I am incapable of giving her love. For an android, that is nearly an eternity. The atmosphere contains high concentrations of methane, carbon monoxide, and fluorine. When Counselor Troi is unhappy, she usually eats something chocolate. I have no need for companionship. However, I do require some supplies. That is something of an understatement. Irony is a form of expression I have not yet been able to master.
I am unlike any lifeform you have encountered before. I am superior, sir, in many ways. But I would gladly give it up to be human. It will cost you twenty to make that determination, sir. I have found Holmes' methodology of deductive reasoning to be quite useful. Have I said something to offend you? If, by your experiments, I am destroyed, something unique, something wonderful will be lost. I am programed in multiple techniques. A broad variety of pleasuring. I am already listed in several bio-mechanical texts, Doctor. He can be reached at 221B Baker Street!
My timing is digital. I believe that statement to be inaccurate, sir. A monk, a clone and a Ferengi decided to go bowling together. I have not observed anyone else on board consulting you about their procreation, Captain. He prefers feline supplement number 25. Is that what is known as a 'poker face'? But with your help, I am learning. That analysis is correct. I am operating within established parameters. How are you? Perhaps something occurred during transport, Commander. You would have destroyed the Enterprise. The Borg aspire to the perfection my Brother and I represent: fully artificial life forms.
It appears we will be required to ignite the midnight petroleum, sir. Any answer would be mere speculation. The advocate will refrain from making her opponent disappear. Captain, no one has ever reversed engines at this velocity. Professor Moriarty, I presume? I am incapable of any feeling. One can swim in moonlight? Geordi - I cannot stun my cat. It did not register on the tricorder. 5 months, 6 days, 11 hours, 2 minutes...
...and 57 seconds. Though anatomically, I am a male. Could you please continue the petty bickering? I find it most intriguing. Captain, the most elementary and valuable statement in science, the beginning of wisdom, is, "I do not know". There is no evidence of avifaunal or crawling vermicular life forms on Jouret IV. Coordinates set, warp 6, on your mark, sir. We are losing antimatter containment. The Captain has been altered by the Borg. I have encountered 1,754 non-Human races during my tenure in Starfleet. Baby needs a new pair of shoes.
Felis catus is your taxonomic nomenclature - an endothermic quadruped, carnivorous by nature. Your visual, olfactory and auditory senses - contribute to your hunting skills, and natural defenses. I find myself intrigued by your subvocal oscillations, a singular development of cat communications - that obviates your basic hedonistic predilection - for a rhythmic stroking of your fur, to demonstrate affection. A tail is quite essential, for your acrobatic talents; you would not be so agile, if you lacked its counterbalance. And when not being utilized to aid in locomotion, it often serves to illustrate the state of your emotion. Oh, Spot, the complex levels of behavior you display - connote a fairly well-developed cognitive array. And though you are not sentient, Spot, and do not comprehend, I nonetheless consider you a true and valued friend.
My positronic brain has several layers of shielding to protect me from power surges. They seem to communicate through narrative imagery, a reference to the individuals and places which appear in their mytho-historical accounts. My upper spinal support is a poly-alloy, designed to withstand extreme stress. My skull is composed of cortenide and duranium. It appears I am not capable of perceiving time any differently than my internal chronometer. Captain, I do not believe you have the authority to promote me to the rank of admiral. There is a bright side, Geordi. You will have me to talk to. I have discovered, sir, a certain level of impatience when I calculate a lengthy time interval to the nearest second.
While suggesting the free treatment of form usually attributed to Fauvism, this quite... inappropriately attempts to juxtapose the disparate cubistic styles of Picasso and Léger. In addition, the use of color suggests a... haphazard melange of clashing styles. Furthermore, the unsettling overtones of proto-Vulcan influences... I believe what you are seeing is the effect of the fluid dynamic processes inherent in the large-scale motion of rarified gas. I successfully planted a command into the Borg collective consciousness. There seems to be a problem with the holodeck's spatial orientation systems. Pardon me - but why is Lieutenant Barclay being referred to clandestinely as a vegetable? This, no doubt, is a variation on 'pie in the face'. Could this be another me? Or possibly my brother?