"[voiceover] I woke up. The pain and sickness all over me like an animal. Then I realised what it was. The music coming up from the floor was our old friend, Ludwig van, and the dreaded Ninth Symphony."

"[voiceover] Then there was like a sea of dirty smelly old men, trying to get at your Humble Narrator, with their feeble rookers and horny old claws. It was old age having a go at youth, and I daren't do a single, solitary thing, O my brothers, it being better to be hit at like that than want to sick and feel that horrible pain."

"[to his Mum and Dad] Right! I'm leaving now! You won't ever viddy me no more. I'll make me own way! Thank you very much. Let it lie heavy on your consciences."

"[voiceover] She came towards me with the light like it was the like light of heavenly grace, and the first thing that flashed into my gulliver was that I'd like to have her right down there on the floor with the old in-out, real savage. But as quick as a shot came the sickness, like a detective that had been watching around the corner and now followed to make his arrest."

"[voiceover] And, O my brothers, would you believe your faithful friend and long suffering narrator pushed out his red yahzik a mile-and-a-half to lick the grahzny, vonny boots...The horrible killing sickness had whooshed up, and turned the like joy of battle into a feeling I was going to snuff it."

"It's not fair! It's not fair that I should feel sick when I hear lovely, lovely Ludwig Van!"

"[voiceover] It was the next day, brothers, and I had truly done my best, morning and afternoon, to play it their way and sit, like a horrorshow co-operative malchick, in the chair of torture, while they flashed nasty bits of ultra-violence on the screen. Though not on the soundtrack, my brothers, the only sound being music. Then I noticed in all my pain and sickness what music it was that like cracked and boomed - it was Ludwig van - Ninth Symphony, fourth movement."

"[voiceover] And viddy films, I would. Where I was taken to, brothers, was like no sinny I ever viddied before. I was bound up in a straitjacket and my gulliver was strapped to a headrest with like wires running away from it. Then they clamped like lidlocks on my eyes so that I could not shut them, no matter how hard I tried. It seemed a bit crazy to me, but I let them get on with what they wanted to get on with. If I was to be a free young malchick again in a fortnight's time, I would put up with much in the meantime, O my brothers. So far the first film was a very good, professional piece of sinny, like it was done in Hollywood. The sounds were real horrorshow. You could slooshy the screams and moans very realistic, and you could even get the heavy breathing and panting of the tolchocking malchicks at the same time. And then what do you know, soon our dear old friend, the red, red vino on tap, the same in all places like it's put out by the same big firm, began to flow. It was beautiful. It's funny how the colours of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on the screen. Now all the time I was watching this, I was beginning to get very aware of like not feeling all that well, and this I put down to all the rich food and vitamins. But I tried to forget this, concentrating on the next film, which jumped right away on a young devotchka who was being given the old in-out, in-out first by one malchick, then another, then another... When it came to the sixth or seventh malchick, leering and smecking and then going into it, I began to feel really sick. But I could not shut my glazzies. And even if I tried to move my glazz-balls about, I still could not get out of the line of fire of this picture."

"[voiceover] I read all about the scourging and the crowning with thorns, and I could viddy myself helping in and even taking charge of the tolchocking and the nailing in, being dressed in the height of Roman fashion. I didn't so much like the latter part of the book, which is more like all preachy talking than fighting and the old in-out. I liked the parts where these old yahoodies tolchock each other and then drink their Hebrew vino, and getting onto the bed with their wives' handmaidens. That kept me going."

"[voiceover] It had not been edifying, indeed not, being in this hellhole and human zoo for two years now, being kicked and tolchocked by brutal warders, and meeting leering criminals and perverts, ready to dribble all over a luscious young malchick like your storyteller."

"This is the real weepy and like tragic part of the story beginning, O my brothers and only friends. After a trial with judges and a jury, and some very hard words spoken against your friend and humble narrator, he was sentenced to fourteen years in Staja No. 84F, among smelly perverts and hardened prestoopnicks, the shock sending my dadda beating his bruised and krovvy rookers against unfair Bog in his Heaven, and my mum boohoohooing in her mother's grief, at her only child and son of her bosom like letting everybody down real horrorshow."

"Naughty, naughty, naughty. You filthy old soomka."

"Initiative comes to thems that wait."

"[voiceover] I had not cut into any of Dim's main cables and so, with the help of a clean tashtook, the red, red kroovy soon stopped, and it did not take long to quieten the two wounded soldiers, down in the snug of the Duke of New York. Now they knew who was Master and Leader. Sheep, thought I, but a real leader knows always when like to give and show generous to his unders."

"[voiceover] As we walked along the flatblock marina, I was calm on the outside but thinking all the time. So now it was to be Georgie the General, saying what we should do, and what not to do, and Dim as his mindless, grinning bulldog. But suddenly I viddied that thinking was for the gloopy ones, and that the oomny ones used like inspiration and what Bog sends. For now it was lovely music that came to my aid. There was a window open with a stereo on, and I viddied right at once what to do."

"A bit cold and pointless, isn't it, my lovely? What's happened to yours, my little sister? (...) What you got back home, little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got little, save pitiful portable picnic players. Come with uncle and hear all proper. Hear angel trumpets and devil trombones. You are invited."

"[While listening to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony] Oh, bliss! Bliss and heaven! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures!"

"[voiceover] And it was like for a moment, O my brothers, some great bird had flown into the milkbar and I felt all the malenky little hairs on my plott standing endwise and the shivers crawling up like slow malenky lizards and then down again. Because I knew what she sang. It was a bit from the glorious Ninth, by Ludwig van."

"[voiceover] We were all feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed. It having been an evening of some small energy expenditure, O my brothers. So we got rid of the auto and stopped off at the Korova for a nightcap."

"Viddy well, little brother. Viddy well."

"[voiceover] The Durango-95 purred away real horrorshow - a nice, warm, vibraty feeling all through your guttiwuts. Soon it was trees and dark, my brothers, with real country dark. We fillied around for a while with other travellers of the night, playing hogs of the road. Then we headed West. What we were after now was the old surprise visit. That was a real kick, and good for laughs and lashings of the old ultra-violence."

"[voiceover] It was around by the derelict casino that we came across Billyboy and his four droogs. They were getting ready to perform a little of the old in-out, in-out on a weepy young devotchka they had there."

"[voiceover] There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. The Korova Milkbar sold milk-plus, milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom, which is what we were drinking. This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence."

"It will be here sooner than you think."

"MGM puts the 23rd century in the palm of your hand."

"A movie that begins where your imagination ends."

"Imagine a world where each and every day is the best day of your life...until you turn 30."

"The only thing you can't have in Logan's world is your 30th birthday...Unless you run away...And Logan is 29."

"Welcome to the 23rd century. A perfect world of total pleasure...with just one catch."

"I'm more than machine or man. More than a fusion of the two."

"Welcome, humans! I am ready for you! Fish, plankton, sea greens and protein from the sea. Fresh as harvest day. Overwhelming, am I not? Are you, too, startled? Am I too removed from your ken?"

"Why did you want to see my hand earlier, show me yours. [Logan opens his left hand, revealing his embedded clear life-clock.] Oh my. [Jessica does the same, showing hers] Can I have one of those?"

"You know, they've each got three names. Yes. The naming of cats is a difficult matter, It's just not one of your holiday games; You may think at first that I am mad as a hatter, When I tell you that each cat's got three different names. See, they got their ordinary name and then they got their fancy name. And that makes two names, doesn't it? And now it's got a third name. Can either of you two guess what that third name is? (beat) Come on! (beat) Above and beyond, there's one name that's left over, and this is the name you never will guess. The name that no human research can discover, but the cat itself knows, and never will confess."

"Those cracks in your face, do they hurt?"

"Upon seeing the gravestones: 'Beloved husband.' 'Beloved wife.' I wonder what it means."

"I hate outside! I hate it! I hate it!"

"What's the matter with you? He's a runner! He's blinking! We must help anyone who asks. We must! Or we're the same as they are, deciding who lives and who dies!"

"You thought I wouldn't find you, didn't you? You thought I'd quit, huh? What did you do to him? You know what he was? He was a Sandman. He was happy. You ruined him. You killed him."

"Logan! Listen to me! I'm your friend. I understand. We all go crazy once in a while. Nobody knows except me. I won't tell. I could have turned you in. I didn't. But she's a runner. But it's over. Terminate her! Now! You're a Sandman! Now, Logan! Now!"

"It's crazy. He could have renewed on Carousel. Now he's finished forever. Why do they run?"

"You know, when you question, it slows you down."

"You know, Logan, you wonder a lot. Too much for a Sandman."

"Just so many people want it to exist, so many people who don't want to die... They want it so much that a place called Sanctuary becomes real. But it doesn't exist. It never existed. Just... just the hope."

"That sweet madman. How could he come to exist?"

"I've never killed in my life. Sandmen terminate runners."

"Libria... Awake. Awaken to triumph again in the face of yet another day,another step in our unified march into the unwavering purpose...move ahead together into the certainty of our collective destiny."

"Angus Macfadyen — DuPont"

"Taye Diggs — Brandt"

"Sean Bean — Erol Partridge"

"Emily Watson — Mary O'Brien"