Londo Mollari: On my world, we have learned that an inauguration is simply a signal to assassins that a new target has been set up on the firing range.

Londo Mollari: The humans, I think, knew they were doomed. But where another race would surrender to despair, the humans fought back with even greater strength. They made the Minbari fight for every inch of space. In my life, I have never seen anything like it. They would weep, they would pray, they would say goodbye to their loved ones and then throw themselves without fear or hesitation at the very face of death itself. Never surrendering. No one who saw them fighting against the inevitable could help but be moved to tears by their courage...their stubborn nobility. When they ran out of ships, they used guns. When they ran out of guns, they used knives and sticks and bare hands. They were magnificent. I only hope, that when it is my time, I may die with half as much dignity as I saw in their eyes at the end. They did this for two years. They never ran out of courage. But in the end...they ran out of time.

Londo Mollari: When I said my quarters were cold, I did not mean, 'Oh, I think it's a little chilly in here, perhaps I'll throw a blanket on the bed.' No, I said it was cold, as in 'Oh, my left arm has snapped off like an icicle and shattered on the floor!' This is highly inappropriate, Captain!
Sheridan: [smirking] You're right. There are several other parts of your body I'd much rather see snapped off.

Londo Mollari: Why did the Minbari surrender at the Battle of the Line, on the very eve of victory? The answer would change the galaxy forever.

Londo: [to Adira] We Centauri live our lives for appearances, position, status, title. These are the things by which we define ourselves. But when I look beneath the mask I am forced to wear, I see only emptiness. And then I think of you, and then I say...to Hell with appearances.

Londo: Blood calls out for blood.

Londo: Careful minister, we don't want my companion to get the wrong idea. We don't normally treat our guests so badly.
G'Kar: Yes you do.
Londo: Shut up.

Londo: I suppose there'll be a war now, hm? All that running around and shooting one another. You'd think that sooner or later, it would go out of fashion.

Londo: Just now, would you really have killed me?
Garibaldi: Yes. Yes, I would have. But I'm just as glad I didn't have to. The paperwork's a pain in the butt.

Londo: My people...we have a way, you see. We know how, and sometimes even when, we are going to die. Comes in a dream. In my dream, I am an old man, it's twenty years from now, and I am dying. My hands wrapped around someone's throat, and his around mine. We have squeezed the life out of each other. The first time I saw G'Kar, I recognized him as the one from the dream. It will happen. Twenty years from now, we'll die with our hands around each other's throats.[N]

Londo: Something my father said. He was old, very old at the time. I went into his room, and he was sitting alone in the dark, crying. So I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "My shoes are too tight, but it doesn't matter, because I have forgotten how to dance." I never understood what that meant until now. My shoes are too tight, and I have forgotten how to dance.

Londo: The Council can go to hell! And the emergency session can go to hell! And you, Vir, you can go to hell too--I would not want you to feel left out.

Londo: There was a time when this whole quadrant belonged to us! What are we now? Twelve worlds and a thousand monuments to past glories, living off memories and stories...selling trinkets! My god, man, we've become a tourist attraction! "See the great Centauri Republic, open nine to five...Earth time!"

Londo: What do you want, you moon-faced assassin of joy?

Londo: What reasonable explanation is there for the slaughter of unarmed civilians?
G'Kar: Curious. We wondered the same thing when you invaded our world. The wheel turns, does it not, Ambassador?
Londo: We should have wiped out your kind when we had the chance.
G'Kar: What happened? Run out of small children to butcher?