SCULLY: Mulder, it is such a gorgeous day outside. Have you ever entertained the idea of trying to find life on this planet?

MULDER: I have seen the life on this planet, Scully, and that is exactly why I am looking elsewhere.

SCULLY: It's not ice cream. It's a non-fat tofutti rice dreamsicle.

MULDER: Ugh. Bet the air in my mouth tastes better than that. You sure know how to live it up, Scully.

SCULLY: Oh, you're Mr. Live-it-up. Mulder, you're really Mr. Squeeze-every-last-drop-out-of-this-sweet-life, aren't you?

SCULLY: On this precious Saturday you've got us grabbing life by the testes stealing reference books from the FBI library in order to go through New Mexico newspaper obituaries for the years 1940 to 1949 and for what joyful purpose?

MULDER: Looking for anomalies, Scully. Do you know how many so-called "flying disc" reports there were in New Mexico in the 1940s?

SCULLY: I don't care. Mulder, this is a needle in a haystack. These poor souls have been dead for 50 years. Let them rest in peace. Let sleeping dogs lie.

MULDER: No, I won't sit idly by as you hurl cliches at me. Preparation is the father of inspiration.

SCULLY: Necessity is the mother of invention.

MULDER: The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.

SCULLY: Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die.

MULDER: I scream, you scream, we all scream for non-fat tofutti rice dreamsicles.

MULDER: I'm - I'm sorry, sir, I'm-I'm looking for Arthur Dales.

ARTHUR DALES: I'm Arthur Dales.

MULDER: No, you're not.

ARTHUR DALES: Don't be a wiseass, son.

MULDER: No, I - I'm sorry, sir, I know Arthur Dales and you're not Arthur Dales.

ARTHUR DALES: Arthur Dales is my brother. My name also happens to be Arthur Dales. It's the same name, different guy. The other Arthur, he moved to Florida the lucky bastard. Now, our parents weren't exactly big in the imagination department when it came to names. If it would help you wrapping your little head around this stupefying mystery, Agent Mulder, we had a sister named Arthur, too and a goldfish.

ARTHUR DALES: Oh, don't bore me, son. My brother Arthur started the X-Files with the Federal Bureau of Obfuscation before you were born. He was working for the FBI and hunting for aliens when you were watching My Best Friend's Martians. You say "shape-shifting." Agent Mulder, do you believe that love can make a man shape-shift?

MULDER: I guess... women change men all the time.

ARTHUR DALES: I'm not talking about women. I'm talking about love. Passion. Like the passion you have for proving extra-terrestrial life. Do you believe that that passion can change your very nature? Can make you shape-shift from a man into something other than a man?

MULDER: Mr. Dales, if you and your brother have really known about this bounty hunter and plans for colonization for the last 50 years why the hell wouldn't you have told anybody?

ARTHUR DALES: Nobody'd believe me.

MULDER: I would have believed you.

ARTHUR DALES: You weren't... ripe.

MULDER: You seriously want me to believe that Josh Exley maybe one of the greatest ballplayers of all times, was an alien?

ARTHUR DALES: They're all aliens, Agent Mulder-- all the great ones.

MULDER: Babe Ruth was an alien?

ARTHUR DALES: Yeah.

MULDER: Joe DiMaggio?

ARTHUR DALES: Sure.

MULDER: Willie Mays?

ARTHUR DALES: Well, obviously.

MULDER: Mantle? Koufax? Gibson?

ARTHUR DALES: Bob or Kirk? See, none of the great ones fit in -- not in this world, not in any other world. They're all aliens, Mulder, until they step between the white chalk lines-- until they step on the outfield grass.

YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: So why did you, uh, leave your family in, uh... in Georgia?

JOSH EXLEY: My people guard their privacy zealously. They don't like for us to intermingle with your people. Their philosophy is we stick to ourselves; you stick to yourselves -- everybody's happy.

YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: So what happened?

JOSH EXLEY: Well, you know what happened.

YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: You fell in love with an earth woman.

JOSH EXLEY: No. I saw a baseball game. See, there's something you got to understand about my race. We don't have a word for laughter. We don't laugh. I don't know if you noticed in between all that fainting you was doing but we have very tiny mouths, so no smiling even.

YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Wow.

JOSH EXLEY: I tell you, when I saw that baseball game being played this laughter just... it just rose up out of me. You know, the sound the ball makes when it hits the bat?

YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Yeah.

JOSH EXLEY: It was like music to me. You know, the smell of the grass, 11 men -- first unnecessary thing I ever done in my life and I fell in love. I didn't know the unnecessary could feel so good. You know, the game was meaningless but it seemed to mean everything to me. It was useless, but perfect.

MULDER: Let me get this straight: a free-spirited alien fell in love with baseball and ran away from the other non-fun-having aliens and made himself black, because that would prevent him from getting to the majors where his unspeakable secret might be discovered by an intrusive press and public and you're also implying that...

ARTHUR DALES: You certainly have a knack for turning chicken salad into chicken spit.

MULDER: You're also implying that this baseball-playing alien has something to do with the famous Roswell UFO crash of July '47, aren't you?

ARTHUR DALES: You're just dying to connect the dots aren't you, son? Look, I give you some wood and I ask you for a cabinet. You build me a cathedral. I don't want a cathedral.

ARTHUR DALES: What is it to be a human, Fox? Is it to have the chemistry of a man? In the universal scheme of things a dog's chemistry is nearly identical to that of a man. But is a dog like a man?

MULDER: Well, I have noticed over the course of time, a man and his dog will often start to look like one another.

ARTHUR DALES: To be a man is to have the heart of a man. Integrity, decency, sympathy: these are the things that make a man a man and Ex had them all, had them all, more than you or I.

MULDER: All right, fire away, Poorboy. Ooh! That's good. All right, what you may find is you concentrate on hitting that little ball... The rest of the world just fades away-- all your everyday, nagging concerns.

The ticking of your biological clock.

How you probably couldn't afford that nice, new suede coat on a G-Woman's salary.

How you threw away a promising career in medicine... to hunt aliens with a crackpot, albeit brilliant, partner.

Getting into the heart of a global conspiracy. Your obscenely overdue triple-X bill. Oh, I... I'm sorry, Scully. Those last two problems are mine, not yours.

SCULLY: Shut up, Mulder. I'm playing baseball.