Please, Don-Bot… look into your hard drive, and open your mercy file! You won’t have time for sleeping, soldier, not with all the bed making you’ll be doing. I decline the title of Iron Cook and accept the lesser title of Zinc Saucier, which I just made up. Uhh… also, comes with double prize money.
Partially, but it also obeys your commands. Kid, I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all-powerful Force controlling everything. There’s no mystical energy field that controls my destiny. It’s all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense. I need your help, Luke. She needs your help. I’m getting too old for this sort of thing. What!? What!? But with the blast shield down, I can’t even see! How am I supposed to fight?
You don’t believe in the Force, do you? What good is a reward if you ain’t around to use it? Besides, attacking that battle station ain’t my idea of courage. It’s more like…suicide. Look, I can take you as far as Anchorhead. You can get a transport there to Mos Eisley or wherever you’re going.
I have a dark side, too. Somehow, I doubt that. You have a good heart, Dexter. I’m really more an apartment person. I’m really more an apartment person.
I feel like a jigsaw puzzle missing a piece. And I’m not even sure what the picture should be. Finding a needle in a haystack isn’t hard when every straw is computerized. I’m Dexter, and I’m not sure what I am. I love Halloween. The one time of year when everyone wears a mask … not just me. Somehow, I doubt that. You have a good heart, Dexter.