I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? 'No!' says the man in Washington, 'It belongs to the poor.' 'No!' says the man in the Vatican, 'It belongs to God.' 'No!' says the man in Moscow, 'It belongs to everyone.' I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture, a city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well.

Technological advance is an inherently iterative process. One does
not simply take sand from the beach and produce a Dataprobe. We
use crude tools to fashion better tools, and then our better tools to
fashion more precise tools, and so on. Each minor refinement is a
step in the process, and all of the steps must be taken.

Do you think I'm trying to trick you with reverse psychology? I mean, seriously, now.

We shootin' shit up? Sprayin' some motherfuckers? I can drive-by with the best of'em.

Stop it! You're ruining my yoga!