V, V, V... If you don't have a titanium skull lining, you are gonna have memory problems in no time.

Oo, I love this town! Love it like you might love a mother who popped you out on the steps of an orphanage and now stops you to ask if you got a smoke for her!

Assisting a human to the best of my abilities only affords a 25 percent survival rate. That means there's a 75 percent chance that despite my efforts, the human I'm assisting will die from something beyond my control. Therefore it's better to hasten the human's death and put them out of their likely chance of misery than to deplete my limited time.

The Mechanist instructed me to seek out and help the people of the Commonwealth. By my calculations, the easiest way to help a human is simply to destroy it. There's no point in prolonging a laughably fragile life.

I guess I just wanted to show you that there's two sides to every victory. Those who live to revel in it, and those who died making it happen.

Some like taking friends on adventures. M'aiq thinks being alone is better. Less arguing about splitting treasure.

Moira: It's like... Did you ever try to put a broken piece of glass together? Even if the peices fit, you can't make it whole again the way it was. But if you're clever, you can still use the pieces to make other useful things. Mabye something wonderful, like a mosaic. Well, the world broke like glass, and everyone's trying to put it back together like it was, but it'll never come together the same way.
Player: I don't know. Human nature doesn't change like that.
Moira: Maybe, I've certainly heard people say that. But isn't it also human nature to try to do better than we always have?

Why is it whenever someone says "with all due respect", they really mean "kiss my ass"?

Sharon spilled coffee on my new shirt while we were in the lounge this morning. I told her it was fine and we had a good laugh about the whole thing. If she does it again I'll stab her in the fucking throat with my pen.
She's a good kid.

I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me.

Player: I'm going to replace all your memories with pictures of cats. Meow.
DiMA: Well, I suppose that would certainly make remembering some of my darker hours more... fuzzy.

Commie ghosts what don't know they're dead. Hoping to steal our rockets so they can fly up and paint the moon pink and draw a Lenin face on it.

It's said war - war never changes. Men do, through the roads they walk. And this road... has reached its end.

The curse of much knowledge is often indecision.

Everything here is meant to kill at your discretion. Except for me. I only kill when I want to.