End of the day, blood money's still money.

Slider: Me, my temple - we are one. My eyes and ears are everywhere.
Reed: This isn't a temple, it's a malicious daemon mill. And you're no priest, you're a two-bit bandit and murderer.

They say pain's a deal between body and brain. You can break it, throw the pain away, bury it. Whole lotta horseshit.

You play grown-up games, you face grown-up consequences.

Problem with that is, the dead don't give a fuck about flowers and lit candles... They're fuckin' dead.