- Raphael: It's the fatal flaw of mortalkind. Take away their free will, and they call you a tyrant. Allow them to indulge it, and they become tyrants.
- Raphael: [offering to remove the Illithid larva from your brain] One skull, two tenants and no solution in sight. I could fix it all, like that. Take all the time you need, but make up your mind before you're counting down with tentacles. Try to cure yourself, shop around, beg, borrow and steal. Exhaust every possibility until none are left... . and when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair, that's when you'll come knocking on my door.
- Player: Was your connection with Jaheira always irksome like this?
- Minsc: Yes! Isn't it wonderful?
- Player: Do you even know "irksome" means?
- Minsc: To irk your friend so that she wishes to fill you with some crossbow quarrels - but knowing she never will, for fear of hitting your hamster.
- Minsc: I think you are thinking too much, my friend - that is why your brain-worm grows fat, while mine own withers from starvation.
- Lord Enver Gortash: Perhaps the people would be calm if you kept your nerve. I expect better from the Flaming Fist than to run scared from a slight tremor in the earth. Get back to your duties.
- Flaming Fist Sergeant: Duties, duties, duties. Patrolling and saluting and following and bowing and scraping and 'yes, sir, no, sir, rip and cut your throat, sir'.
- [Throws a dagger into a painting. The sergeant then proceeds to shapeshift into Orin]
- Orin the Red: Your plan is falling apart, lordling. Give me a reason not to cut you to ribbons.
- Lord Enver Gortash: Control yourself, Orin. We need to focus on reuniting the stones, or the brain will break free. These quakes are just the start. Neither of us expected the Prism-bearers to kill Ketheric. They'll be traveling to the city. Let's make sure we give them a Baldurian welcome.
- Orin the Red: [sighs] I itch to peel you, to split your skin, to see your skull shine in the light, little tyrant.
- [Orin grunts and grabs her dagger from the penetrated painting]
- Orin the Red: Lucky for you, I harvested a whole family of living-flesh in Rivington at Highsun. They will sate my blade-thirst tonight.
- [Orin shape-shifts into the sergeant; Gortash coughs]
- Flaming Fist Sergeant: But tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, my blades will thirst again.
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