People imagine it as a great border wall, a one-time solution to protect humanity forever. Whereas it's more like a torn-open trash bag taped over a busted window.

You guys aren't exactly great at rollin' out the welcome mat for outsiders.

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.