Confidence and Paranoia

Back to RD intro page

Holly: I've just finished reading everything. I've now read everything that's been written by anyone ever.
Lister, annoyed: Would you go away?
Holly: You know what the worst book ever written by anyone ever was?
Lister: I don't care!
Holly: "Football, It's a Funny Old Game" by Kevin Keegan.

Holly: Well, only if you're not busy. Would you mind erasing some of my memory banks?
Lister: What for?
Holly: Well, if you erase all the Agatha Christie novels from my memory bank, I can read 'em again tonight.
Lister: How do I do it?
Holly: Just type, "Holmem. Password override. The novels Christie, Agatha." Then press erase.
Lister: I've done it.
Holly: Done what?
Lister: Erased Agatha Christie.
Holly: Who's she, then?
Lister: Holly, you just asked me to erase all Agatha Christie novels from your memory.
Holly: Why should I do that? I've never heard of her.
Lister: You've never heard of her because I've just erased her from your smegging memory.
Holly: What'd you do that for?
Lister: You asked me to!
Holly: When?
Lister: Just now!
Holly: I don't remember this.

Rimmer: Lister, if you were a love celibate like me you wouldn't have these problems.
Lister: Come on, Rimmer, the only reason you knocked around with those prats from the Love Celibacy Society was you could never get a date.
Rimmer: No, it wasn't. I happen to agree with their philosophy that love is a sickness that holds back your career and makes you want to spend all your money.
Lister: You could never get a date because you let your mum buy all your casual clothes.
Rimmer: There is nothing wrong with my casual clothes.
Lister: Oh, come on, Rimmer, your trousers were so short, when you crossed your legs, you could see your knees.
Rimmer: What about Yvonne MacGruder? That was a date.
Lister: She'd been hit on the head by a winch. She had a concussion.
Rimmer: That's got nothing to do with it. She was crazy about me.
Lister: Oh, yeah? She kept calling you "Norman."
Rimmer: She still went to bed with me.
Lister: Yeah, because she had wonky vision and she thought you were somebody else.
Rimmer: Serves her right for being concussed, doesn't it?
Lister: Rimmer! You don't know what love is.
Rimmer: Yes, I do. Love is a device invented by bank managers to make us overdrawn.

Lister: Rimmer... Love is what makes us different from animals.
Rimmer: No, Lister, what makes us different from animals is we don't use our tongues to clean our own genitals.

Cat: Hey, this is mine. That's mine. All this is mine. I'm claiming all this as mine. Except that bit. I don't want that bit. But all the rest of this is mine. Hey, this has been a good day. I've eaten five times, I've slept six times, and I've made a lot of things mine. Tomorrow, I'm gonna see if I can't have sex with something.

Cat, playing with his food: I'm gonna eat you little chickie, I'm gonna eat you little chickie, I'm gonna eat you little chickie. Uh uh, too slow, chicken merango. Too slow for this cat!

Rimmer: What is more important: a man's life or your smegging lunch?
Cat: That doesn't even deserve an answer.

Lister: Why didn't I ask her out? What's the worst she could've said?
Rimmer: She could've said "No, you're a filthy, stinking, loathsome, disgusting object I wouldn't be seen dead with in a plague pit."
Lister: She could've said "yes." Stranger things have happened!
Rimmer: Only two spring to mind, Lister, the spontaneous combustion of the Mayor of Warsaw in 1546 and that incident in 12th century Burgandy when it rained herring.

Lister: There's this theory that Chen used to have. It's like everyone's got two people inside you. You've got your confidence and paranoia. And your confidence's the guy who goes, "Hey you're great. You're dead sexy! Everybody loves you!" And your paranoia says, "You're stupid. You're useless. You're ugly. And everybody hates you."

Rimmer: Holly, what's going on?
Holly: What?
Rimmer: What's happening?
Holly: Um, Hercule Poirot's just stepped off the steaming train. And if you want my opinion, I think they all did it.

Lister: You're my confidence?
Confidence: I just love that accent. It makes me go all quibbley!
Lister: I don't get it. You look like the manager of the London Jets but you sound like Bing Baxter, the American quiz show host.
Confidence: I'm all the things you associate with confidence, King.
Lister: And you're my paranoia?
Paranoia: Isn't that a urine stain on the front of your trousers?
Lister: What? No, it isn't. It's tea.
Paranoia: So how are you anyway? Isn't that a huge spot appearing on your so-called face? My god, you've got fat, haven't you? Must be all that lager. Bet you've got a terminal disease. Always happens to the people who least expect it. Don't you find that? Say "hello," then, won't you? I'm only trying to be friendly.

Lister: What are you doing with that cigarette butt?
Confidence: Oh, you've embarrassed me now. It's just that, your lips have touched it. Your lips! The King's kissing lips! And I just wanted some proof that I'd actually met the Duke of Deliciousness!

Paranoia on Lister: Seventeen years old and he used to snog his own hand. Once, in front of the whole school, he called his gym teacher "Daddy."

Rimmer, shouting to the scutter: Now! Stab him! Stab him! STAB HIM! QUICK! STAB HIM! (The scutter doesn't move. Rimmer speaks to Paranoia) Uh, you haven't met "Stabem," have you? He's one of the scutters. Stabem, meet Lister's paranoia. Lister's paranoia, this is Stabem.

Confidence: Another great idea from the people who brought you Beer Milkshakes!

Rimmer: Lister, you're not having her disk or any disk.
Confidence: Come on, King, you know Rimmer. Where would he hide 'em?
Lister: I don't know.
Confidence: Yes, you do.
Paranoia: No, he doesn't.
Confidence: Come on, think "Winner"!
Lister: Outside. Outside the ship.
Rimmer: Uh... Wrong, actually!
Confidence: Where outside?
Lister: Well, he'd have to send the scutters... and the disks would have to be safe.
Rimmer: Wrong, wrong, absolutely brimming over with wrong-ability.
Lister: And they'd have to be right under me nose he could laugh at me.
Rimmer: Wrong and getting wronger all the time.
Lister: Outside out sleeping quarters. The solar panel outside our sleeping quarters!
Rimmer: You followed me, you goit!

Confidence: In space, no one can hear you cha-cha-cha.

Confidence: I killed him. Cha-cha-cha.
Lister: What do you mean, you killed him, cha-cha-cha?

Confidence: Oxygen's for losers!

Rimmer: Welcome aboard, Rimmsie.
Rimmer 2: Nice to be here, Mr. Rimmer, you son of a gun.

Pick an episode from the list on the left or
come back to the intro page for more options