Michael Dorn: Lieutenant Worf

Ethics

Lieutenant Worf

Commander William T. Riker: Remember Sandoval? Hit with a disrupter blast two years ago - she lived for about a week... Fang-Lee, Marla Aster, Tasha Yar? How many men and women, how many friends have we watched die? I've lost count. Every one of them, every single one fought for life until the very end!
Lieutenant Worf: I do not welcome death, Commander.
Commander William T. Riker: Are you sure? Because I get the sense you're feeling pretty noble about this whole thing. "Look at me! Aren't I courageous, aren't I an honorable Klingon?" Let me remind you of something: a Klingon does not put his desires above those of his family, or his friends.

Lieutenant Worf: Will you, or will you not, help me with the Hegh'bat?
Commander William T. Riker: You are my friend. And in spite of everything I've said, if it were my place, I would probably help you. But I have been studying Klingon ritual and Klingon law, and I've discovered... it is not my place to fill that role. According to tradition, that honor falls to a family member - preferably the oldest son.
Lieutenant Worf: That is impossible. He is a child.
Commander William T. Riker: "The son of a Klingon is a man the day he can first hold a blade." True?
Lieutenant Worf: Alexander is not fully Klingon. He is part Human!
Commander William T. Riker: That's an excuse. What you really mean... is, it would be too hard to look at your son and tell him to bring you the knife, watch you stab it into your heart, then pull the knife out of your chest and wipe your blood on his sleeve. That's the rite of death, isn't it? Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Worf - I can't help you. There's only one person on this ship who can.

Lieutenant Worf: I have a personal favor to ask.
Commander William T. Riker: Name it.
Lieutenant Worf: I want you to assist me in performing the Hegh'bat ceremony. I want you to help me die.

Lieutenant Worf: I need you to help me.
Alexander Rozhenko: Anything, Father.
Lieutenant Worf: I have taught you about... Klingon customs - the beliefs which we value. According to a tradition, I must take my life, after suffering this kind of injury. But I have decided to break with tradition. I have decided to live.
Alexander Rozhenko: I'm glad, Father.
Lieutenant Worf: I will still have to undergo a dangerous operation. I may still die. But it will not be by my own hand.
[hands Alexander his ritual knife]
Lieutenant Worf: Return this to our quarters.
Alexander Rozhenko: [takes it] Yes, sir.

[first lines]
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: No question about it. She was bluffing, Worf.
Lieutenant Worf: Bluffing is not one of Counselor Troi's strong suits -... - No, it would've been unwise to call. Yes, my hand was not strong enough.
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: You had jacks and eights, and she bluffed you with a pair of sixes.
Lieutenant Worf: How did *you* know what I had?
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: Let's just say I had a special insight into the cards.
[points at his VISOR]
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: Maybe next time you should bring a deck that's not transparent to infrared light.
[Worf looks at him suspiciously]
Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge: [jovially] Not to worry, Worf. I only peek after the hand is over.

Lieutenant Worf: [Worf refusing to try a procedure that would grant him limited mobility after his paralysis] I will not be seen lurching through corridors like some half-Klingon machine. An object of ridicule and disgust.