...without love, without anger, without sorrow, breath is just a clock ticking.

Brandt: What are you doing?
Preston: I'm rearranging my desk.
Brandt: You didn't like the way it was before?
Preston: I had no feelings about it. I'm merely attempting to optimize.

DuPont: Wait, Wait, look at me, look at me, I'm life, I live, I-I breathe, I feel. Now that you know it, can you really take it? Is it really worth the price?
Preston: I pay it gladly.

Jurgen: But the first thing you learn about emotion is that it has its price. A complete paradox. But without restraint, without control, emotion is chaos.
Preston: But how is that different-
Jurgen: The difference being is that when we want to feel, we can.

Jurgen: We've been watching you, Preston.
Preston: You're Jurgen.
Jurgen: You're feeling. [pauses] Do you know why you came?

Mary: Let me ask you something. Why are you alive?
John Preston: I'm alive... I live... to safeguard the continuity of this great society. To serve Libria.
Mary: It's circular. You exist to continue your existence. What's the point?
John Preston: What's the point of your existence?
Mary: To feel. 'Cause you've never done it, you can never know it. But it's as vital as breath. And without it, without love, without anger, without sorrow, breath is just a clock... ticking.

Mary: You can't do this. You cannot do this!
Preston: Tetragrammaton. There's nothing we can't do.

Preston: Every time we come from the Nethers to the city it reminds me of why we do what we do.
Partridge: It does?
Preston: I beg your pardon?
[Partridge injects Prozium dose into his neck]
Partridge: It does.

Preston: There's no war. No murder.
Partridge: What is it you think we do?

Rebel: Don't do it. He'll shoot us in the back.
Preston: If I was going to shoot you I'd shoot you in the face.

Robbie Preston: John?
John Preston: Yes?
Robbie Preston: I saw Bobbie Taylor crying today. He didn't know, but I saw. Do you think I should report him?
John Preston: Unquestionably.

A nearly unforgivable lapse, Cleric. I trust you'll be more vigilant in the future.

Be careful, Preston. You're treading on my dreams.

But I being poor, have only my dreams, I have spread my dreams under your feet, tread softly because you tread on my dreams. (reading "He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven" - W.B. Yeats)

Cleric, I can only hope one day to be as uncompromising as you.