No cause is lost if there is but one fool left to fight for it.
— Jack. Elizabeth is in danger.
— Have you considered just locking her up somewhere?
— She is locked up, bound to hang for helping you.
— There comes a time when one must take responsibility for one's mistakes.
— Who makes all these?
— I do. And I practise with them three hours a day.
— You need to find yourself a girl, mate.
— You know, for having such a bleak outlook on pirates you're well on your way to becoming one. Sprung a man from jail, commandeered a ship of the fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew
out of Tortuga. And you're completely obsessed with treasure.
— That's not true. I am not obsessed with treasure.
— Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate.
— William, tell me something. Have you come because you need my help to save a certain distressing damsel? Rather, damsel in distress? Either one.
— No.
— Well, then you wouldn't be here, would you? So you can't be here. Q. E. D., you're not really here.
— You want me to find this?
— No. You want you to find this, because the finding of this finds you incapacitorially finding and/or locating in your discovering a way to save your dolly belle, ol' what's-her-face. Savvy?
— This is going to save Elizabeth?
— How much do you know about Davy Jones?
— Not much.
— Yeah, it's going to save Elizabeth.
— We're going to steal the ship? That ship?
— Commandeer. We're going to commandeer that ship. Nautical term.