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

V: Doesn't it bother you?
Ozob: What?
V: The grenade. You know, the one on your face?
Ozob: Eh, you get used to it. I just gotta be carefull not to pull the pin when I wanna pick my nose.

Speaking of harm's way. Know what I see lookin' at you? Walking, talking corpses.

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.

He quenches his thirst at the watering hole. While waiting for your arrival, he takes shelter in the shade of the cherry blossoms. The fox is cautious. It shall emerge when it is sure that the water was not poisoned.