#*tosrewatch

All the ghosts are dead. I’ve buried them. There’s no more blood on your hands.

When dreams become more important than reality, you give up travel, building, creating.

Battle, fear, love, triumph. Anything that pleases you can be made to happen.

I may have been mistaken. Well, at least I lived long enough to hear that.

We’re living beings, not playthings for your amusement.

A very interesting game, this poker.

Sir, level two corridor three reports a disturbance: Mister Sulu chasing crewmen—with a sword!

Mind your own business, Mr. Spock! I’m sick of your half-breed interference, do you hear?