Mr. Spock

You know, Dr. McCoy said the same thing.

Spock: Fifty years to go. Forty. Thirty.
Kirk: Never mind, Mr. Spock.
Spock: [silence]

Humans of the 20th century do not go beaming around the Galaxy, Mr. Seven.

History has been changed in the fact that Billy Claiborne didn’t die, but Chekov is lying there dead.

They cannot hear you, Captain. To their ears, you sound like an insect.

Your collection of Leonardo da Vinci masterpieces, Mr. Flint—they appear to have been recently painted.

Conjecture, Captain, rather than explanation: It would seem that we were held in the power of creatures able to control matter and to rearrange molecules in whatever fashion was desired, so they were able to create images of Sarak and Lincoln after scanning our minds and using their fellow creatures as source matter.

Spock! You’re reverting into your ancestors, five thousand years before you were born!

McCoy: You realize that by giving him the formula you’re altering the future.
Scotty: Why? How do we know he didn’t invent the thing?

His age, his century, his civilization—they were all gone. This was now his universe. The fact was irreversible. So be it. I will adjust.

Kirk: [pacing in front of a lineup of the crew] Who started the fight?
O’Brien: I don’t know, sir.

Kirk and Spock travel back in time to 2014

Peering into the murky abyss, Spock saw something he had never seen before: a window, a portal to that other world, not a vision, not a light, but a feeling, a feeling he didn’t understand—wonderment.

Young Pike: How am I supposed to believe . . . ?
Old Pike: . . . that I’m really you?
Young Pike: You ever gonna let me get a word in edgewise?
Old Pike: I knew you were gonna say that. Does that help?

There’s going to be an attack. It’s going to change the timeline. We have to stop it.

I know me being here wasn’t . . . ideal . . . , and potentially reality-threatening, but meeting all of you has been one of the greatest experiences of my life.