...there's way too much information to decode the Matrix. You get used to it, though. Your brain does the translating. I don't even see the code. All I see is blonde, brunette, redhead. Hey uh, you want a drink?

Security Guard: Can you please remove any metallic items on your person? Keys, loose change… [Neo throws back his trench coat, revealing an arsenal of automatic weapons] Holy shit!

Spoon boy: Do not try to bend the spoon; that's impossible. Instead, only try to realize the truth. [What truth?] There is no spoon. Then you'll see, that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself.

Agent Brown: Sentinels are standing by.

Tank: Now, we're supposed to start with these operations programs first. That's major boring shit. Let's do something a little more fun. How about combat training?

Agent Brown: She got out.
Agent Smith: Doesn't matter.
Agent Brown: The informant is real.
Agent Smith: Yes.
Agent Jones: We have the name of their next target.
Agent Brown: The name is Neo.
Agent Smith: We'll need a search running.
Agent Jones: It already has begun.

Switch: Digital pimp, hard at work.

Tank: Believe it or not, you piece of shit - you're still gonna burn!

Tank: Everyone, please observe: The "fasten your seatbelt" and "no smoking" signs have been turned on. Sit back and enjoy your flight.

Agent Brown: What were you doing?
Agent Jones: He doesn't know.
Agent Smith: Know what?

I'd like to share a revelation I've had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species. I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with their surrounding environment, but you humans do not. You move to another area, and you multiply, and you multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You are a plague, and we are the cure.

Switch: Not like this, not like this.

Agent Brown: He's gone.

Agent Brown: The trace is complete.
Agent Jones: We have their position.
Agent Brown: Sentinels are standing by.
Agent Jones: Order the strike.

As you can see, we've had our eye on you for some time now, Mr. Anderson. It seems that you've been living two lives. In one life, you're Thomas A. Anderson, program writer for a respectable software company. You have a Social Security number, you pay your taxes, and... you help your landlady carry out the garbage. The other life is lived in computers, where you go by the hacker alias Neo, and are guilty of virtually every computer crime we have a law for. One of these lives has a future, and one of them does not. I'm going to be as forthcoming as I can be, Mr. Anderson. You're here because we need your help. We know that you've been contacted by a certain individual: A man who calls himself Morpheus. Now, whatever you think you know about this man is irrelevant. He is considered by many authorities to be the most dangerous man alive. My colleagues believe that I'm wasting my time with you, but I believe you wish to do the right thing. We're willing to wipe the slate clean. Give you a fresh start. And all that we're asking in return is your cooperation in bringing a known terrorist to justice.