The mother, a cigarette smoker, died of lung cancer... before her son uttered his first word. With no surviving family, he became a ward of the state, sent to various orphanages in the Midwest. Didn't make friends, spent all his time reading... alone... and then... he appears to have vanished... until a year and a half after the Bay of Pigs.

WILLIAM MULDER: My one-year old just said his first word.

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: What was the word?

WILLIAM MULDER: "J.F.K."

AGENT MAN: In January, 1961, did you aid Congo President Kasavuba in the arrest and assassination of Patrice Lamumbra?

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: No, sir.

AGENT MAN: Were you involved in the training of Cuban nationals during "Operation Zapata," also known as "The Bay of Pigs?"

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: I'm sorry, sir, I'm unaware of any such operation.

AGENT MAN: On May thirty-first, 1961, did you aid Dominican locals in the assassination of Rafael Trujillo?

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: No, sir.

AGENT MAN: Your father was a convicted spy for the Soviet Union, executed in a Louisiana electric chair, was he not?

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: My only regret, sir, is I was too young to throw the switch myself.

FRANCIS: Cigarette?

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: No, thank you, sir. I never touch them.

FRANCIS: Now, most people, common people, really... can barely manage to control their own self-centered, myopic existence. They command armies of lawyers, armed with paper weapons, attacking with spiteful, vengeful... cowardly litigation. Others... operate within elephantine bureaucracies. And then, Captain...

There are extraordinary men... those who must identify... comprehend, and ultimately shoulder the responsibility for not only their own existence, but their country's, and the world's as well. Your father, Captain... believed his country should look to another form of government, and he took control of that belief. So, in that respect, we view him as an extraordinary man. And we believe... we know, Captain... that it runs in the family.

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: You shouldn't smoke those, Lee [Harvey Oswald]. I'm reading studies that say they can kill you.

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: I respect [Martin Luther] King [Jr.]. He's an extraordinary man. But now he's talking like a Maoist... And if he convinces Negroes not to fight in Vietnam, we'll lose... and the first domino will have fallen.

AID: Should we... advise the President?

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: I work very hard to keep any President from knowing I even exist.

LYDON: I'm working on next month's Oscar nominations. Any preference?

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: I couldn't care less. What I don't want to see is the Bills winning the Super Bowl. As long as I'm alive, that doesn't happen.

JONES: That'll be tough, sir. Buffalo wants it bad.

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: So did the Soviets in '80.

JONES: What're you saying? You rigged the Olympic hockey game?

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: What's the matter? Don't you believe in miracles?

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: How many historic events have only the two of us witnessed together, Ronald [Deep Throat]? How often did we make or change history? And our names can never grace any pages of record. No monument will ever bear our image.

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: A living E.B.E. could advance Bill Mulder's project by decades.

DEEP THROAT: Security resolution council ten-thirteen states, "Any country capturing such an entity is responsible for its immediate extermination."

DEEP THROAT: I'm the liar. You're the killer.

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: Your lies have killed more in a day than I have in a lifetime. I've never killed anybody.

SENIOR AGENT: Are you familiar with an agent named Fox Mulder?

SCULLY: Yes, I am.

SENIOR AGENT: How so?

SCULLY: By reputation. Um, he's an Oxford educated psychologist, who wrote a monograph on serial killers and the occult, that helped to catch Monty Props in 1988. Generally thought of as the best analyst in the violent crimes section. He had a nickname at the academy... Spooky Mulder.

FROHIKE: Henry David Thoreau wrote, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." His life has been anything but quiet, yet I believe nothing but desperate. He's the most dangerous man alive, not so much because he believes in his actions, but because he believes his actions are all which life allows him. And yet... the only person that can never escape him... is himself.

CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN: Life... is like a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for. Unreturnable, because all you get back is another box of chocolates. You're stuck with this undefinable whipped-mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there's nothing else left to eat. Sure, once in a while, there's a peanut butter cup, or an English toffee. But they're gone too fast, the taste is fleeting. So you end up with nothing but broken bits, filled with hardened jelly and teeth-crunching nuts, and if you're desperate enough to eat those, all you've got left is a... is an empty box... filled with useless, brown paper wrappers.