— Mr. Gibbs.
— Captain?
— You may throw my hat if you like.
— Aye, aye, captain. Hooray!
— Now go and get it.
— You're a cruel man, Jack Sparrow.
— Cruel is a matter of perspective.
— Close haul her. Luff the sails and lay her in iron.
— Belay that! Or we'll be a sitting duck.
— Belay that "belay that."
— But, captain...
— Belay. Belay. Stow. Stow. Shut it.
— I see my ship. Right there.
— Can't spot it. Must be a tiny little thing hiding somewhere behind the Pearl.
You know, the problem with being the last of anything, by and by there be none left at all.
— 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.
— Shoot him.
— Cut out his tongue.
— Shoot him, and cut out his tongue, and shoot his tongue. And trim that beard.
— Who is this betrayer?
— Not likely anyone among us.
— Where's Will?
— Not among us.