Johnny: Well, that's what you get for a lifetime o' hustlin'.
V: Nice speech. Remind me not to invite you to my funeral.

Maiko: How'm I to deal with you?
V: Ah, don't mind me - just here to blend into the decor.

V: What's it like for an AI in a world that runs on grey matter?
Delamain: Nothing extraordinary. It's a complex environment that follows its own set of rules.
V: Seriously? Term I was lookin' for was "chaotic clusterfuck".

V: Mean to tell me you can pin the exact drug from just a whiff? Like a police dog, or what?
Johnny: I'd say more like a... a sommelier.

Selected mode: Stone Cold Killer. Happy slaughtering!

I'm sending a tow truck and a share of your fee. Yet only one of those is going to your credit acount, hahaha!

Catching lead in Night City's easier than catching a cold.

Well, the world is a maze of illusions. It's not easy for the light to shine into the prison of our earthly existence.

Don't matter how much perfume a corpo sprays on mornings, by lunch that's replaced by the stench of skullduggery.

You get to a certain age, you drop all your illusions. Life just gets easier from there.

You're either somebody or you fizzle out into nothin'. Night City don't let you choose.

NC's legends! Know where you'll find most of 'em?!
The graveyard.

I've always maintained it's the same for all you termites in Heywood. Born here, live her, die here.

You know Heywood. It has strong roots - ever watered by some blood.

There once were two sisters, Night and Death,
Death large, and Night small,
Night had the beauty of dreams, while Death,
Death was most lovely of all -

Hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny!
Death was most lovely of all.