"When you go to war as a boy, you have a great illusion of immortality. Other people get killed, not you... Then, when you are badly wounded the first time, you lose that illusion."

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

The wind whistling through boarded-up windows. Tumbleweeds scratching across dry, sandy tracks. That's how towns die. Not with a bang, but with whispers and whimpers.

It's like uncle Estevez always said - "If you gotta choose between your ride and savin' someone else's life, always choose the ride."

Swap meat for chrome, live a BD fantasy, whatever, but at the end of it all, it's the code you live by that defines who you are.