Give yourself time. Ideas'll come. Life'll shake you, roll you, maybe embrace you. The music'll find you.

Sometimes two people find themselves at the wrong place at the right time.

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.

Only one with chaos within can give birth to a dancing star.

V: Said it yourself - you can kick the rat outta the corp...
Jackie: But you'll never kick the corp outta the rat.