MULDER: I am alarmed that you would reduce these people to a cultural stereotype. Not everybody's dream is to get on Jerry Springer.

SCULLY: Psychologists often speak of the denial of an unthinkable evil or a misplacement of shared fears. Anxieties taking the form of a hideous monster for whom the most horrific human attributes can be ascribed. What we can't possibly imagine ourselves capable of we can blame on the ogre, on the hunchback, on the lowly half-breed.

SCULLY: But common sense alone will tell you that these legends, these unverified rumors are ridiculous.

MULDER: But nonetheless, unverifiable, and therefore true in the sense that they're believed to be true.

SCULLY: Is there anything that you don't believe in, Mulder?

MULDER: This fly has legs…

SCULLY: … Growing out of his mouth.

MULDER: Why would you do that?

POLLIDORI: Because I can.

SCULLY: Despite what you might think, Mulder, designer mutations like these are virtually impossible in humans.

MULDER: That's not what I just heard.

SCULLY: Mulder, even if they could, no scientist would even dare to perform this kind of experiment on a human.

MULDER: Well, then why do them at all?

SCULLY: To unlock the mysteries of genetics, to understand how it is that even though we share the same genes we develop arms instead of wings. We become humans instead of flies or monsters.

MULDER: But, given the power, who could resist the temptation to create life in his own image?

SCULLY: We already have that ability, Mulder. It's called "procreation."

MULDER: When Victor Frankenstein asks himself "Whence did the principle of life proceed?" and then as a gratifying summit to his toils creates a hideous phantasm of a man he prefigures the Post-modern Prometheus. The genetic engineer whose power to reanimate matter - genes into life - us - is only as limited as his imagination is.

MULDER: This is all wrong, Scully. This is not how the story is supposed to end.

SCULLY: What do you mean?

MULDER: Dr. Frankenstein pays for his evil ambitions, yes. But the monster's supposed to escape to go search for his bride.

SCULLY: There's not going to be any bride, Mulder. Not in this story.

MULDER: Well, where's the writer? I want to speak to the writer.