Altaren 1: We cannot hide our ways any longer.
Altaren 2: Nor should we.
Altaren 1: The Ori have amassed armies and moved to destroy us. Everything we believe—all we are—is an affront to them. They will stop at nothing to destroy every last shred of evidence that opposes their fanaticism.

Vala: You really think this is it?
Jackson: Well it's covered in Ancient writing. These symbols here are part of the oldest dialect I'm aware of. It says, "safely kept is the something of old."
Vala: Well if I knew for sure I wouldn't have said "the something"—

Vala: What if we got them to open it? Well it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, would it?

Landry: Shame you didn't find the real Ark.
Mitchell: Yes sir. But not for lack of trying.

Jackson: We think that these visions might be remnants of Merlin's memories left behind intentionally to steer us in the directon of the Ark.
Tomin: And you think I'm crazy for believing in the Ori.

Mitchell: We have a little Replicator problem. So we're gonna jump into hyperspace and avoid the bad guys while we deal with them.
Jackson: I'm sorry, did you say Replicator problem?
Mitchell: Unfortunately yes, I did.

Gateroom Guy: After ten years and a thousand email requests I finally get my own parking spot.

O'Neill: Never, in the history of boredom, has anyone been more bored than I am right now.
Carter: C'mon sir, it's only been— woo.
Jackson: It's almost over. The crimes they're listing are starting to sound familiar.

Ba'al: SG-1. And General Jack O'Neill.
O'Neill: How's tricks, B?

Ba'al: And where is my dear Ketesh?
Jackson: Well Vala was here.
Ba'al: Interesting.
O'Neill: Oh she's probably going to the bathroom for heaven's sake. I'm next in line by the way.

The Atlantic Ocean - 1939

Jackson: I dialed earth.
Mitchell: Yeah I know. LIke I've seen you do a hundred times before. But my keen professional eye is seeing a few differences between this place and Stargate Command. That, for one. And the Stargate... is in a box.

Mitchell: Alright so Vala and Teal'c disappear into thin air. We gate into somebody's freezer. Put the pieces of that puzzle together and... I got nothing.

O'Neill: Mitchell I don't know what you're doing in the arctic with a dead astronaut, but I'm going to need some answers.
Mitchell: Yeah, well. Back atcha.

Landry: I take it that in your timeline you're not a discredited wackjob living on the fringes of society.
Jackson: That really depends on who you ask.