Low: Brink, you have been dead for several hours. Brink: You Americans. Always exaggerating.
Brink's insults to the spider are priceless.
Brink: Come here, you phlegm-carapaced slime-faced mucus-brained furry-legged abductor of luminously intelligent but pulchritudinous Earth women! (notices that Low hasn't moved) Brink: Low, you idiot! Why are you standing there? Low: I'm still trying to figure out what you said.
When first talking to the Cocytan Scientist, some of the things Low says during the conversation are hysterical.
Low: If all I wanted to do was stand around and shout nonsense at somebody, I could have run for Congress!
Boston's frustration at his predicament finally boils over in the power room:
Low: Ten to one it's the power source to this place. All I need to do now is to find the light switch. Or the plug. Or the fusebox. Or whatever makes this thing work. An instruction manual might help! Maybe a map. And I could use a sandwich. And a hot jukebox and a cold beer! Or just a starship headed for home. <sigh> Get a grip, Boston.