V: Doesn't it bother you?
Ozob: What?
V: The grenade. You know, the one on your face?
Ozob: Eh, you get used to it. I just gotta be carefull not to pull the pin when I wanna pick my nose.

Be alone with my thoughts? Near on unachievable these days.

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

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?

T-Bug: "The greatest crimes issue from a desire for excess and not from necessity."
Jackie: Say what now?
T-Bug: Aristotle. Guess you read me, then?
Jackie: Yeah, I read you. Not so much your Greek friend, though it was kind of exciting.