HAL: What are you doing, Dave?
HAL: I’m afraid I can’t let you do that Dave.
Dave Bowman: Open the pod bay door, Hal.
David Bowman: You know, of course, though he’s right about the 9000 series having a perfect operational record–they do.
Frank Poole: Unfortunately, that sounds a little like famous last words.
HAL 9000: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
HAL: I honestly think you ought to calm down; take a stress pill and think things over.
Dr. Floyd: What’s that? Chicken?
Dr. Halvorsen: Something like that. Tastes the same anyway.
HAL: I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I can think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.
HAL: I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I’m a…fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you’d like to hear it I can sing it for you.
Dave Bowman: Yes, I’d like to hear it, HAL. Sing it for me.
HAL: It’s called “Daisy”. Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half crazy all for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.