“That’s because they’re a bunch of stubborn root-sucking jackasses holding onto traditions that are a thousand years old.”

Saul Tigh: What's this, Chief?
Chief Tyrol: I'm making solvent, sir, to clean machine parts.
Saul Tigh: Solvent my ass. I know a still when I smell it.

Kara: I've gotta make a move. One way or the other.

Tigh: It's combat. Survival instinct has to kick in. You make your choice, and you don't look back.

Kara: Survival instinct, huh? ...Yeah.

Tigh: I got one job here, lady, and one job only. To disrupt the Cylons, make them worry about the anthill they stirred up down here so they're distracted and out of position when the old man shows... more

I'm an officer...

I'm tired of looking at your sorry faces.

Col. Saul Tigh: [talking about whether Baltar can help figure out who the fifth cylon is] He poked a skin job... he racked up a six, that's a given... you don't have to get on your back for him,... more

It's combat. Survival instinct starts to kick in. Make your choice, and don't look back.

I'd rather go back to my rack and crawl under the covers with a bottle. But you were right, this was a good idea. No use going backwards, might as well get use to the bright lights.

Tigh: I know you're wonderin', so I'll save you the trouble; the eye is gone. They ripped it out onto the floor and showed it to me. Looked like a hard boiled egg