I am sure most of those will remind you of Snape!
Garak:That’s the eleventh ship to fall out of formation.
Dax: Nice of you to keep track, Garak(!)
Bashir: He can’t help being negative, it’s in his nature.
Garak:On the contrary. I always hope for the best.
Experience, unfortunately, has taught me to expect the worst.
Garak: I believe in coincidences. Coincidences happen every day. But I don’t trust coincidences.
Bashir (A doctor, and Garak’s only friend): Assuming you’re not a spy…
Bashir: …then maybe you’re an outcast.
Garak: Or maybe I’m an outcast spy.
Bashir: How could you be both?
Garak: I never said I was either.
Toran(old political enemy): How the mighty have fallen. (referring to Garak being a tailor now)
Toran: It’s Gul Toran now. (Gul: army higher grade)
Garak: They made you a Gul? I didn’t realize the situation on Cardassia had gotten so desperate.(Cardassia is Garak’s home land)
Toran : Go back to your sewing kit, tailor!
(Garak zaps/shoots Toran)
Garak: Well, some people should never be promoted.
Garak: Living on this station is torture for me, doctor. The temperature is always too cold, the light’s always to bright, every Bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt. (Bajorans come from Bajor, the planet occupied by Cardassians like Garak for 40years of war. So they don’t like his race at all!)
Garak: Doctor, did anyone ever tell you that you are an infuriating pest?
Bashir: Chief O’Brien, all the time, and I don’t pay any attention to him either.
Garak: There was a time, doctor, oh there was a time when I was a power; the protegee of Enabran Tain himself (his father). Do you have any idea what that means?
Bashir: I’m afraid I don’t.
Garak: No, you don’t, do you? You don’t know much of anything.
Bashir: And so they exiled you.
Garak: That’s right! And left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you.
Bashir: I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company.
Garak: Oh, I did! And that’s the worst part. I can’t believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug sanctimonious face.
Bashir: Why are you telling me this, Garak?
Garak: So that you can forgive me, why else? I need to know that someone forgives me.
Bashir: What I want to know is, out of all the stories you told me which ones were true and which ones weren’t?
Garak: My dear doctor…they’re all true.
Bashir: Even the lies?
Garak: Especially the lies.
Garak: And you think that because we have lunch together once a week you know me? You couldn’t even begin to fathom what I’m capable of.
Ziyal(Garak’s number one enemy’s daughter! She’s in love with him, and he cared for her, too): Kira and my father both told me that you used to be an agent of the Obsidian Order. That you had my grandfather tortured and killed and that you could easily kill me without a second thought.
Garak: Although I seldom credit the Major or your father with being entirely trustworthy in this case…they’re both telling the truth.
Ziyal: You’re intelligent and cultured…and kind.
Garak: My dear, you’re young, so I realize that you’re a poor judge of character.
Garak: (to Dukat, Ziyal’s father) You do have a lovely daughter. She must take after her mother.
Ziyal : Well, what’s going to happen to you?
Garak: Ooh well, let me tell you a story. I once knew a Cardassian, a dashing, handsome young man with a promising career, but one day, through no fault of his own, he found himself exiled and alone with nowhere to turn. But did he give up? No. He struck upon a brilliant plan: instead of fleeing for the rest of his life he sought shelter in the one place no one expected him to go: in a stronghold of his people’s most hated enemies. There, surrounded by hostile strangers, he built a life and there, against all odds, against the merciless logic of the universe itself, he thrived.
Ziyal: By becoming the greatest tailor in the galaxy.
Garak: And the moral of the story, my dear, is to never underestimate my gift for survival.
Unfortunately, Garak did come back but Ziyal had just been killed!! What a tragedy!! He had just warmed up to her! Guess tragic characters do remain as such in the head of writers!
Kira: She loved you.(talking about dead Ziyal who fell in love with him)
Garak: I could never figure out why…..I guess I never will.
Garak: Look at this place; it’s pathetic! To think that this is what my life has been reduced to; this sterile shell, this prison.
Jem’Hadar (enemy): Put down your weapons!
Garak: I have them! I have them. By all means, commander, do as they say. (he takes his friends as prisoners…)
Bashir: Garak… (incredulous that his friend turns on them)
Garak: You heard me, doctor. I’m glad to see the plan is going as scheduled.
Jem’Hadar: What plan is that?
Garak: You mean no-one told you? You see, I pretend to be their friend and then I shoot you.
(Garak zaps two Jem’Hadar)
Sisko (DS9′s captain): Well done, Garak.
Garak: Well, it’s just something I read once in a book.(He wants them to believe that he only came up with the idea by reading books, but the truth is he is an efficient spy and used such techniques often)
Bashir: The trouble with Cardassian enigma tales is that they all end the same way: all the suspects are always guilty.
Garak: Yes! But the challenge is determining exactly who is guilty of what.
Garak: To think, after all this time, all our lunches together you still don’t trust me. There’s hope for you yet, doctor.
Bashir: I can’t believe you’re not pressing charges.
Garak: Constable Odo and Captain Sisko expressed a similar concern, but really doctor, there was no harm done.
Bashir: They broke seven of your transverse ribs and fractured your clavicle.
Garak: Ah, but I got off several cutting remarks which no doubt did serious damage to their egos.
Bashir: Garak, this isn’t funny.
Garak: I’m serious, doctor! Thanks to your administrations I’m almost completely healed but the damage I did to them will last a lifetime.
Regent Worf: Then you can spend the rest of your life contemplating your failure as you labour alongside the other slaves in the ore processing center.
Mirror Garak (alternate universe): It’s nice to have something to look forward to.
Founder Leader (Head enemy): There were NO Cardassian survivors.
Garak: You mean…they’re all dead?
Founder Leader: They’re dead. You’re dead. Cardassia is dead! Your people were doomed the moment they attacked us. I believe that answers your question.
Garak: It was a pleasure meeting you.
Odo (DS9 constable) : Interesting that a simple tailor should just happen to have a high-level security code.
Garak: Yes, isn’t it? And if my nose didn’t hurt so much I’d tell you a fascinating story about how I came to possess it.
Garak: Very good, doctor. You’ve come a long way from the naive young man I met five years ago. You’ve become distrustful and suspicious. It suits you.
Bashir: I had a good teacher.
Garak: I’ve been a fool. Let this be a lesson to you, doctor, perhaps the most valuable one I can ever teach you: Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all.
Bashir: If that’s true it’s a lesson I’d rather not learn.
(General Martok, a Klingon, was composing an epic war song about their situation while in prison. Garak is the only one who can save them by working in a tight space, but he has claustrophobia)
Garak: I just have to finish what I started. After all, a verse about the Cardassian who panicked in the face of danger would ruin General Martok’s song.
Martok: That would be unfortunate.
Garak: Now, if you’ll excuse me…my dungeon awaits.
O’Brien: What’s the matter?
Garak: Well, it’s just that lately I’ve noticed that everyone seems to trust me. It’s quite unnerving, I’m still trying to get used to it. Next thing I know people are going to be inviting me to their homes for dinner.
O’Brien: Well, if it makes you feel any better, I promise I will never have you over.
Garak: I appreciate that, chief.
O’Brien: You look different.
Garak: How so?
O’Brien: That’s not the face of a tailor.
Garak: I’m not a tailor. Not for the moment, anyway.
Garak: I don’t need someone to walk in here and hold my hand. I want someone to help me get back to work and you, my dear, are not up to this task. Well, look at you; you’re pathetic. A confused child trying to live up to a legacy left by her predecessors. You’re not worthy of the name Dax. I knew Jadzia. She was vital, alive. She owned herself, and you, you don’t even know who you are. How dare you presume to help me? You can’t even help yourself. Now get out of here, before I say something unkind.