Starman: You are a strange species. Not like any other. And you would be surprised how many there are. Intelligent but savage. Shall I tell you what I find beautiful about you? You are at your very best when things are worst.
Starman: I gave you a baby tonight.
Jenny Hayden: What's it like up there?
Starman: It is beautiful. Not like this, but it is beautiful. There is only one language, one law, one people. There is no war, no hunger. The strong do not victimize the helpless. We are very civilized, but we have lost something, I think. You are all so much alive, all so different. I will miss the cooks and the singing and the dancing. And the eating! - - And the other things.
Starman: Define love.
Jenny Hayden: Love is, um, it's when you care more for someone else than you do for yourself. But it's not just that, it's...it's when someone is a part of you. And when they...
Starman: What?
Jenny Hayden: Scott is dead. He was killed in an accident.
George Fox: Good. I'm glad you're here.
Mark Shermin: What the hell is this about?
George Fox: You're a man of some scientific attainment. You mean to tell me you don't recogonize an emergency autopsy room when you see one?
Mark Shermin: With leather tie straps?
George Fox: You behave yourself, Mark.
Starman: Environment: hostile.
Starman: Shit.
Jenny Hayden: Don't mind him. He's just learning English.
Roadhouse Waitress: Well, he's got a hell of a start on it.
George Fox: Do you seriously expect me to tell the President that an alien has landed, assumed the identity of a dead housepainter from Madison, Wisconsin and is presently out tooling around the countryside in a hopped up orange and black 1977 Mustang?
Jenny Hayden: Love is, um, it's when you care more for someone else than you do yourself.
Starman: Define shit.
