Dr. Phlox : I'm a physician, not an engineer.

Dr. Phlox : Commander Tucker reassigned the repair team that that was working here. He said the Armoury was a higher priority. We'll see how low a priority I am the next time he burns his fingers on a plasma conduit.

[the crew is watching a detective movie from the '40s in the mess hall]  Dr. Phlox : Something tells me we haven't seen the last of the detective with the bow tie. Commander Tucker : No, he died in a house fire. Dr. Phlox : Ah, did he? The autopsy was inconclusive. I wouldn't be surprised if the body belonged to the delivery man. With the strange limp. You never did see him leave the house. Commander Tucker : What about the gardener? He was there too. Dr. Phlox : Too tall. Even the primitive forensics of the mid-20th century would have determined that. Subcommander T'Pol : [annoyed by the distraction]  Perhaps we should watch and find out. Commander Tucker : Part of the fun of a mystery is trying to solve it before it ends, using logic. You of all people should appreciate that. Subcommander T'Pol : Then use logic more quietly.

[Lt. Reed's stomach has been mutated]  Lt. Reed : Have you got anything for my stomach? Chef's food isn't sitting too well. Dr. Phlox : Till your digestive tract is fully restored, you may want to avoid Mess Hall. Lt. Reed : What do you suggest I eat? Dr. Phlox : You're welcome to some of the moth larvae I feed to my Pyrithian bat.

Subcommander T'Pol : Are you saying you believe time travel is possible? Dr. Phlox : Surprises, subcommander. I believe in embracing surprises. Subcommander T'Pol : I prefer to embrace logic.

Dr. Phlox : The will of the patient is the cornerstone of Denobulan medical ethics. Captain Archer : Don't you believe if you can help someone, you're ethically bound to do so? Dr. Phlox : Hippocrates wasn't Denobulan.

Dr. Phlox : That's it, time's up! Commander Tucker : It sure is.

Subcommander T'Pol : [in the Mirror Universe]  I noticed you've been making extensive use of the library database. Dr. Phlox : I was merely researching classical literature. I wanted to compare our major works with their counterparts in the other universe. I skimmed a few of the more celebrated narratives. The stories were similar in some respects, but their characters were weak and compassionate. With the exception of Shakespeare, of course. What I can tell, his plays were equally grim in both universes.

Dr. Phlox : If I'm not mistaken, they are preparing to mate. Do you think they might let me watch?

Dr. Phlox : It's unethical to harm a patient. However, I can inflict as much pain as I like.

Dr. Phlox : Medically speaking, there's no accounting for taste.

Dr. Phlox : When was the last time you slept? Commander Tucker : T'Pol tattling on me? Dr. Phlox : She's worried about you. Commander Tucker : I appreciate that, but I'm holding this ship together with spit and bailing wire. Dr. Phlox : Six hours. Commander Tucker : Two. Dr. Phlox : Four. Commander Tucker : Done. And remind me never to buy a car from you.

[Dr. Phlox is infected by nanomachines and is slowly changing into a Borg]  Dr. Phlox : Why are you wearing a phase pistol? Ensign Hoshi Sato : Oh, it's Lt. Reed's idea. If you come near me, I'm supposed to shoot you. Dr. Phlox : I hope you'll use the stun setting.

Dr. Phlox : Lieutenant? Are you passing through or is there something I can help you with? Lt. Reed : Actually, there is something. Dr. Phlox : Yes? Lt. Reed : I assume I can depend on doctor-patient confidentiality? Dr. Phlox : This wouldn't have anything to do with gastrointestinal distress? Lt. Reed : Is it that obvious? Dr. Phlox : Not at all. There's a notation in your medical file. Something about, er, an unfortunate incident during zero-G training. Lt. Reed : The EV simulator at Lunaport. Or, as Starfleet trainees call it: the Vomitorium.

[Lt. Reed has a bad case of the cold]  Lt. Reed : [sneezes]  We can travel faster than the speed of light. You'd think we could find a cure for the common cold. Dr. Phlox : You should be grateful. A human cold is so mild. I once had a patient with the Kamaraazite flu. He sneezed so violently, he nearly regurgitated his pineal gland.

[Dr. Phlox and Crewman Cutler are watching a movie in the ship's movie theatre]  Crewman Elizabeth Cutler : We can go if you're bored. Dr. Phlox : No, no, I'd like to stay and see what happens. [someone from the audience hisses for silence]  Crewman Elizabeth Cutler : You won't be disappointed. The ending's classic. Dr. Phlox : No, not the film. I'm sensing a rising emotional undercurrent in the room. I'm curious to see if it culminates in some kind of group response. Crewman Elizabeth Cutler : They don't have movies where you come from, do they? Dr. Phlox : Well, we had something similar a few hundred years ago, but they lost their appeal when people discovered their real lives were more interesting.

Ensign Hoshi Sato : I'm a translator. I didn't come out here to see corpses hanging on hooks. Dr. Phlox : It goes without saying that you're going to encounter the unexpected. Ensign Hoshi Sato : Not corpses on hooks.

Commander Tucker : I'm getting punchy. Dr. Phlox : Why aren't you getting together with T'Pol to get your neural nodes stimulated? Too intimate? Commander Tucker : Nah, I don't have an hour a night to waste in T'Pol's quarters. Isn't there something else I could do. Dr. Phlox : There is Alderberan mud leeches. Commander Tucker : What the hell am I supposed to do with those? Dr. Phlox : Place one on your chest and one on your abdomen an hour before going to bed. Their secretions act as a natural sedative. Oh, uh, please be careful to sleep on your back. If you roll over, you might anger them. Commander Tucker : Maybe an hour a night with T'pol isn't so bad.

Dr. Phlox : Tell me, did your visit to the Xyrillian ship involve any... uh... romance? Commander Tucker : What? Dr. Phlox : Were you intimate with anyone? Commander Tucker : Doc, I was over there to repair a warp reactor. What are you talking about? Dr. Phlox : Seems you did a little more than repair work. Commander Tucker : Meaning? Dr. Phlox : This is a nipple. Commander Tucker : I beg your pardon? Dr. Phlox : Ah, ah, the blastocyst is located between the sixth and seventh intercostals. Commander Tucker : What the hell are you talking about? Dr. Phlox : I'm not quite sure congratulations are in order, Commander, but you're pregnant.