V, V, V... If you don't have a titanium skull lining, you are gonna have memory problems in no time.

If planting bombs net enough, what can you do? You become bomb.

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

You can't know Night City well, ever. It's always changin', always surprisin'. Part of its charm.

Would you rather live in peace as Mr. Nobody, die ripe, old and smellin' slightly of urine? Or go down for all times in a glaze of glory, smellin' near like posies, 'thout seein' your thirtieth?