Bicentennial Man

Andrew:
They die? One feels badly for them.

Sir:
Why did the chicken cross the road?

Andrew:
One does not know, sir, possibly a predator was behind the chicken, or possibly there was a female chicken on the other of the road, if it's a male chicken. Possibly a food source, or depending on the season it might be migrating. One hopes there's no traffic.

Sir:
To get to the other side.

Andrew:
To get to the other side. Ah, why is that funny?

Andrew:
One is glad to be of service.

Andrew:
Sir, is everything all right?

Sir:
Umm. They've both gone now, Andrew. Well, things change, things always change. People move on. It's as it should be. But, what I realized today is that I'll never stop missing them.

Andrew:
Sir? One is still here.

Sir:
And one is glad of that Andrew. Thank you.

Andrew:
One understands why some animals eat their young.

Andrew:
One has studied your history. Terrible wars have been fought where millions have died for one idea, freedom. And it seems that something that means so much to so many people would be worth having.

Rupert Burns:
What do they say?

Andrew Martin:
That you can lose yourself. Everything. All boundaries. All time. That two bodies can become so mixed up, that you don't know who's who or what's what. And just when the sweet confusion is so intense you think you're gonna die... you kind of do. Leaving you alone in your separate body, but the one you love is still there. That's a miracle. You can go to heaven and come back alive. You can go back anytime you want with the one you love.

Rupert Burns:
And you want to experience that?

Andrew Martin:
Oh, yes, please.

Rupert Burns:
So do I.

Andrew Martin:
I try to make sense of things. Which is why, I guess, I believe in destiny. There must be a reason that I am as I am. There must be.

Sir Martin:
You're a unique robot, Andrew. I feel a responsibility to help you become - whatever you're able to be.

Little Miss:
I have a friend who is very special to me. He's sweet and exceptionally intelligent, but, well - he's not really a - I mean, a relationship between us would be impossible. It would never, could never, work out.

Portia:
I like you. I even understand you some of the time. But I'm not about to invest my emotions in a machine.

Portia:
What's right for most people in most situations isn't right for everyone in every situation! Real morality lies in following one's own heart.

Portia:
But if this really works between us? You and I will never be accepted. We can't be married or anything.

Andrew:
You have no idea what it feels like to be in love with someone that is about to marry someone else.

Galatea:
I think personality is much more important than intelligence, don't you?

Andrew:
It all sounds so very... messy.

Andrew:

It's cruel that you can cry and I cannot.

Here is a terrible pain I cannot express.

Will every human being that I care for...

just... leave?

Portia: It couldn’t be more clear if you spit in my face. Andrew Martin: I can’t. I don’t have a Mucous gland.

President Marjorie Bota: Andrew Martin Andrew Martin: I've always tried to make sense of things. There must be some reason I am as I am. As you can see, Madame Chairman, I am no longer immortal. President Marjorie Bota: You have arranged to die? Andrew Martin: In a sense I have. I am growing old, my body is deteriorating, and like all of you, will eventually cease to function. As a robot, I could have lived forever. But I tell you all today, I would rather die a man, than live for all eternity a machine. President Marjorie Bota: Why do you want this? Andrew Martin: To be acknowledged for who and what I am, no more, no less. Not for acclaim, not for approval, but, the simple truth of that recognition. This has been the elemental drive of my existence, and it must be achieved, if I am to live or die with dignity. President Marjorie Bota: Mister Martin, what you are asking for is extremely complex and controversial. It will not be an easy decision. I must ask for your patience while I take the necessary time to make a determination of this extremely delicate matter. Andrew Martin: And I await your decision, Madame Chairman, thank-you for your patience. [turns to Portia and whispers] I tried.

[Immediately following the death of "Little Miss"] Andrew Martin: Will every human being that I care for just... leave? Portia: I'm afraid so... Andrew Martin: That won't do.

[last lines] Galatea: In the words of the great Andrew Martin, "One is glad to be of service". Portia: [looking to Andrew] See you soon.

[Andrew is checking out the church Portia is restoring ahead of her wedding - and she's not too pleased to see him]

Andrew Martin:
Do you have any idea what it's like to be in love with someone... who's about to marry someone else? Someone totally magnificent, someone who walks into a room and lights it up like the sun? Someone who you know is lying to herself?

Portia Charney:
Lying?

Martin:
Convincingly, yeah. Very, very much so.

Charney:
About what?

Martin:
That you don't love me, when I know at least in some way you do.

Charney:
And how do you know that?

Martin:
Portia, I have done everything inside and out.

Charney:
But that stuff doesn't matter to me.

Martin:
Well, something matters, 'cause I'd have to believe if nothing mattered, you'd love me... and not some man whose chin could sink the Titanic. [Portia laughs] What? See? It's true, isn't it? I'm sorry. Does he light you up like this? Does he make you laugh?

Charney:
[smiles and grins] Nobody makes me laugh like this.

Martin:
Good. Then admit it. Admit that you love me. [goes after Portia as she tries to walk away] Give me one kiss.

Charney:
Oh, God.

Martin:
That's all. One quick kiss. just one kiss... could not jeopardize a glorious marriage. Besides, it would also explain to me why your pulse jumped from 66 to 102 beats per minute. Your respiration rate has doubled. You're putting out clouds of pheromones.

Charney:
[embarrassed at being scanned] It's not fair to read me like that.

Martin:
I know. Love isn't fair. I'm reading your heart. I'm asking you to follow it-- begging you. Begging is supposed to be humiliating. I don't care. I love you, Portia. I loved you the very first moment I saw you. [Andrew and Portia kiss deeply]

Charney:
I thought you said a quick kiss.

Martin:
I lied! [they kiss deeply and Andrew lifts her up]

Galatea:
[called out by Rupert over being grumpy at work] Every day it’s [salutes] ‘Yes Rupert Sir’, ‘No Rupert Sir’, ‘Can I get you another beverage Rupert Sir?!’ And it CHAPS MY ASS!!! So here's a helpful hint for you: SHUT UP AND LET ME DO MY WORK!! [casually dislodges boxes] I'm done!